Through The Shadows
by MinisterSweetGoodKid
Summary: A king suffers frightening dreams and a stranger with a traumatic past arrives in the kingdom. Both lions have memories of a long ago massacre with one chance to seek the truth and find peace.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **After another successful story, I'm back with something new. I promised you guys I would be after taking a break. It was a lot longer than I thought it would be, but that's okay. It gave me a lot of time to think and plan. So, here's a new story for your entertainment/enjoyment. To those of you who read Intertwined from beginning to end, and read the summary I gave you of this next one, you should know what it's gonna be about. This is another original work of mine and it also deals with problems not normally written or seen. Compared to my last two stories this one is not about love and marriage among lions. Though, it's only fair that I warn you that the elements of this story are intense, so you, like me, are in for a wild ride. Hope you're ready!

All the characters and events in this story are mine and are not to be used without my permission.

So, I present…

**Through the Shadows**

**Prologue**

The air was chilly. Clouds filtered overhead, blocking the mid-morning sun. They were dark and threatening. Whether it would rain was anyone's guess, but it didn't matter. The king and his son had to patrol, whether they liked it or not. The prince shivered in the freezing air.

His father growled. "Stop that! It's just cold weather, and the clouds above are a sign that the rains will come, so stop shaking and deal with it. I'm not going to send you home because you're afraid to catch a cold!" The king's eyes flashed with anger as he stared at his son, teeth showing. His dark stormy gray-purple eyes snapped.

The prince nodded stiffly, offering no reply. But he grunted softly. He kept his eyes ahead and forced his own emotions down into his throat, his stomach, wanting to quench them. He should've considered himself lucky that his father didn't strike him for _not_ answering.

_He would have you know, especially if you gave a reply he didn't like,_ said a voice in his head. He shrugged it off. No matter his feelings he had a job to do. How he wished he didn't have to do it with his father!

The king spoke again. "Stop, we're near the border. I'm going to mark. You keep an eye out for any intruders." Then the older lion drew his face close to his son and hissed. "Don't screw up! You are not to fail, understand? If you do, there will be consequences."

A short, curt nod, but he understood nonetheless. "Yes, Father," he spoke, completely devoid of emotion. Emotion, his father said, was a sign of weakness. His father didn't have it, didn't want him to have it either.

The prince had been patrolling with his father for nearly two years. He was just three, his mane grown. When the first strands of mane started to show on his chest his father said with a hard and loud voice, "Your mane has come in! It is time for you to stop lying around and take some responsibility! I won't be here one day to clean up any mess you might make!"

He remembered his father had struck him hard in the face after that. "Just so you don't forget," he'd snarled.

That smack hadn't been the first. He'd suffered many before, even as a cub. Although his scars had healed over the years they were replaced by more, both on his body and on the inside, namely his heart and mind. His father was trying to strip him of his goodness and his innocence time after time.

The prince shook himself and watched as his father left. His whiskers twitched, his ears rose and he sniffed the air. Despite the cold atmosphere, there was nothing foreign, nothing amiss. He pawed the grass, the dirt, and drew in a sharp breath through his nose. He didn't want to patrol, at least not with his father, the king. He would have patrolled by himself. He wanted to just for the sake of freedom. These would be his lands one day anyway. He wasn't lazy but his father refused to see it.

"I'm always weak to you, aren't I, Father? I, your only son… And you –" He shut his eyes, remembering the first time his father ever hit him. "I was just a cub," he muttered. "How could you?" He had done nothing wrong then, had done nothing wrong now. It was as though his father hated the sight of him, but only tolerated him because he was his son with royal blood flowing through his body. That was it. If he were anyone else, his father would have surely killed him on the spot with no regret or remorse.

One of the first times he'd been hurt was when his father was teaching him to pounce. The memory filled his mind…

_A small gopher popped up beside him. His father was watching, which made him swallow in fear, but made his determination increase. He had to get this right._

_The young prince studied his intended target. He waited until the animal moved a few feet in front of him, its back to him. It looked ahead, sniffed and then turned to see the lions. Its eyes grew wide, its mouth opened in panic. It had to make a hasty decision. It could take off and run anywhere or dig a new hole._

_The lion cub moved carefully and quietly, keeping his body to the ground. His belly touched the dirt. He braced himself for a pounce, his eyes sparkling. The prince pounced and the gopher moved quickly, digging its front paws into the dirt, creating a new hole._

_The medium gray-brown lion cub's paws hit the newly created hole where the gopher had disappeared. Disappointment filled him. He wasn't quick enough. A low, angry growl reached his ears, which went back at the sound. He closed his eyes, fear now replacing his disappointment. His father had brought him out here for this very purpose – to pounce. If he didn't succeed the first time then –_

"_Turn around," he heard the king say._

_He had no choice but to obey. He turned his body around and stared up into the eyes of his now angry father._

_The ruler's front claws appeared, then sheathed. His eyes snapped, his teeth showed. "I told you to be patient, to wait and to __**not**__ make a sound!"_

_The cub gulped. "I didn't, Dad, I –"_

_There was a smack, a yelp of pain, the sound of his body falling to the ground. He groaned, which earned him another hit._

"_Yes, you did, and crying out gets you nowhere," the king snarled. "Stop it!" he growled as he slammed his right paw down on his son again. This time he unsheathed the claws on his right front paw, leaving four marks on the cub's upper left hind leg._

_The heir to the throne, young and innocent, only shut his eyes and tried to keep his cries from being heard. He closed his mouth and endured the beating. He knew why. It had happened the last time his father tried to teach him to pounce. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it would happen every time he didn't live up to his father's expectations… even something like this. This beating wasn't the first. And if he didn't pounce right and make mistakes in the future, it wouldn't be the last._

The three-year old prince opened his eyes and sucked in a lungful of air. He looked around and looked himself over. He wasn't a cub anymore, but a full grown adult. His father wasn't beating him… yet, and wouldn't unless he did what he was told and kept an eye out for intruders. He did. He sniffed the air. No foreign scents.

He shuddered as a question ran through his mind. He was grown up and still allowed his father to beat him when he didn't do something the way the king wanted it done. Did it make him weak? And just what was his father… He stopped the question, knowing the answer. His father was _always_ abusive. Not just to him, but to the lionesses and the queen as well. Not physically but verbally.

"_There is no room for weakness in this world, son. We must be strong, always. Weakness is like a horrible stench. My father wasn't weak and he beat the weakness out of me. I became strong, and so shall you, once weakness is out of you."_

Those were the words his father spoke when he started growing his mane. Well, now he was three years old, and his father wanted him to be just like him? To hurt others when they were a little weak? What was wrong with weakness? Who could be strong all time? What about emotion? He couldn't remember even one time when his father smiled, laughed or cried. Maybe he never did, or whenever he did, he'd had it beaten out of him by his father.

The prince's ears went forward, back and then flickered. His heart pounded. His father was training him to be heartless, emotionless, to rule with a paw of cruelty and hatred. He looked up at the sky. The clouds were coming in, harder, blacker. Rain was on the way or a fierce lightning storm. The threat of such a storm reminded him of his father. He treated his pride the way lightning treated the earth, harming everything it struck, sometimes creating a fire of devastation. That's what his father had unleashed upon the realm, to the lionesses that didn't deserve it, their cubs, his mother and him.

His father was like this upcoming storm, like all the storms he'd seen in the past, violent, and deadly if caught in it. And it's what his father wanted him to be. To rule like him, to be this coming storm and all others like it. The prince had only seen a few good, calm, soothing storms and gentle gray clouds in the last few years. He'd felt the peacefulness of the rains, had seen the way it replenished the lands and filled the waterholes. Why couldn't his father be like the calm storms? Why did he have to be so violent?

Did _he_ have to be violent?

His father was mean, but he, the heir, didn't have a mean bone in his body. Sure he hated it when his father hurt him, even when he least expected it. He hated to see his mother and anyone else with hurt feelings.

The prince trembled in the cold air. He could feel the oncoming storm swirl around him, perhaps tempting him… to what?

How much longer could the kingdom stand with a lion like his father and how would it stand if he took his place and used the training his father was beating into him?

The kingdom _wouldn't_ last, nor would the pride, and the animals would leave. Everything would fall. As the shaman put it, "the balance here would fall with an unfit and unrighteous king. The Circle here would be broken."

She was right, more so if he took over. He was surprised that the balance _wasn't_ falling with his father in charge, surprised it hadn't fallen when his grandfather ruled.

A growl escaped him and his eyes snapped. His father was a violent storm that needed to be stopped. Ideas came. Talking wouldn't work. He couldn't just go up to his father, who was still patrolling and say, "Dad, you don't deserve to be king, so I'm going to take over. To do that, I have to kill you, because a lion like you doesn't deserve to live." Though the idea sounded appealing, it was bad. He had to think this through.

He raised his head and sniffed the air, searching for his father's scent. When he found it he slowly began to walk in that direction – south. For the moment, he didn't care if he wasn't following orders. If his father got killed by a rogue, fine by him. It would save him the trouble of getting rid of this violent creature. But if a rogue didn't do the job, he would. He'd be committing murder, but what his father was doing, had done, was wrong, maybe more than what he was about to do.

It didn't matter. Getting rid of his father was all he cared about. He stopped and looked ahead. There he was, marking the bushes. The prince smirked wryly. "Always so proud to be the king, aren't you, Father?" he muttered to himself bitterly. "You care about nothing and no one, not even the kingdom in general, yet you go out every day and defend it." He took in a breath, felt a cold wind surround him, and continued his walk.

After marking another bush, the king sniffed the air and turned. His eyes grew wide in surprise, then vicious, angry. "What are you doing? I told you to keep an eye on things! Do you EVER listen to a thing I say?" He growled and snarled.

The prince stopped a few feet from him. "Yes, Father, I do listen," he said simply.

"No, you don't. You never have. You're my son, my firstborn and only son! You were supposed to be strong, but your mother birthed a weakling. I've wasted three years shaping you into –"

"Into what exactly, Father, into another version of you? Sorry I disappointed you there, but it wasn't Mother's fault. Not all things or beings become what we hope. We just learn to accept, something you yourself never learned." Then he turned his head to the side, muttering, "Probably thanks to grandpa."

As expected, the remark earned him a slap in the face. His head jerked, his cheek stung, but there were no claws. He didn't feel them. He turned back to his father, a pain filled smile plastered on his face. "It's true, isn't it? Your father made you into what you are and you want to do the same to me. It won't happen."

"Really, and what makes you think that? When I'm done with you you're going to be –"

"I won't be a king. I'll be a tyrant, just like you and grandpa."

"And you think you can rule differently? You've been listening to your mother again, or that fool of a shaman."

The prince growled. "In this coming storm, Father, here, your reign shall end. I won't have you hurting the pride, Mother, or the animals ever again."

The king laughed. "And what does that mean? You're going to kill me? You'd be committing regicide – murdering your king."

The younger lion shook his head. "You're not a king. You're not my king and you're not my father. You're nothing to me, and the lands will do better without you." Claws on all four paws came out and his teeth showed. He bared them, growled loudly and leapt at his father.

Claws dug into fur and teeth bit into flesh. Roars, snarls, and growls of fighting filled the air. So did the sounds of thunder and some flashes of lightning. But something filled inside the prince.

When he bit into his father's shoulder, clawed his side and back, until finally his mouth filled with the blood from his father's throat, something in his mind snapped. The blood… it tasted so good it was as though he was sucking the evil from this lion's body, this lion that deserved to die by his own son. The blood and the feel of his father's now dead weight beneath his paws made him feel powerful, invincible. But it also made him feel something else: Anger and rage. It was against his father and not.

In that moment he remembered the other beatings and the events after. How he would return to his mother, beaten and sometimes bloodied. His mother would take him in her paws and bathe him. But that was it. She had never stopped her mate from harming him. She was the queen, the second-in-command. Her duty was to make sure the pride was in good health. Despite bathing him, she never spoke up, never defended him. She had allowed the king to beat him, sometimes in her presence.

In the prince's mind an image flashed of one particular time. What he'd done or didn't do, he wasn't sure but as his father brought down his paws on him his mother had stood in a corner with a low head.

_She did nothing…_

He jerked and tore out his father's throat. He spat up blood in the grass and looked down at the mess that had been his father. The king was gone. Sighing heavily, he turned and walked away, his legs numb. He wasn't done. His eyes burned as he tasted the blood on his lips, his muzzle. His paws were also covered.

His father had wanted to make a violent storm out of him, to repeat the cycle his father had laid out for him. Both kings had succeeded. Thirst for blood coursed through the prince's body and the storm in the sky was growing. Thunder rumbled, harder, louder. The sky was threatening to unleash one violent act of nature.

The stormy weather and the stormy blood thirst in the prince had just begun.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Queen Ruhusa looked back at her hunting party, a black rimmed ear flickering. Her eyes blinked as she studied them, her party, all six of them, seven including her. They were ready, they always were, and she was proud, no _relieved_, to be with them. She couldn't help it. Being with the lionesses who hunted gave her peace of mind. It made her forget her own private troubles. But her troubles were also the pride's troubles. They cared for her deeply, as they should. She was their queen, their leader.

Ruhusa smiled at the lionesses and turned her gaze back to the small herd of grazing wildebeest. They were unaware of the predators' presence. Ruhusa had the party stop a good distance away. They were lying low in the grass, waiting. The signal was simple. She would wave her tail and the teams would spread out. One would cause a disruption in the herd; then both teams would rush out and bring an herbivore or two down. It'd be enough to feed the pride for a few days.

Ruhusa walked up a bit, an ear flickering as she heard a few members of her team do the same. She turned to them, shaking her head. Understanding, they stopped. The queen stared at the herd, her mind wandering. She thought about her son and mate. Would her son return home with new scars, a sprained leg, or both? Her ears went back. A pained expression covered her face and her heart pounded at the image. But the reality of it had happened before, so much over time.

She pawed the grass, fighting the emotion that suddenly filled her. It didn't surprise her that she was feeling this way: guilty, ashamed and defeated. Shouldn't she feel these things? She had every right to. She knew her mate, Abasi, was a hot-head, the kind of lion who didn't take well to imperfection. So why did he marry _her_? She was far from perfect. They'd known each other forever, since they were cubs and she knew he had a temper, but it didn't stop her from marrying him. Didn't stop her from hoping or praying that her love could, if not change him then maybe keep him calm.

The only time Abasi wasn't cold and cruel was when they were alone together away from the pride's cave, under a full moon and bright stars. Only then was he the lion she'd fallen for when she was two years old. The rest of the time… he was… and their son… Her beloved son, the very same son Abasi beat when he didn't do something right.

How many times did Ruhusa bathe her badly beat child, only after Abasi stormed out of their chambers, not caring that he had hurt their son over small, innocent, and harmless things? And she was left with him, to see his beaten, broken body. She would bathe him, purr and hum softly to him until he fell asleep in her arms. When Abasi returned he never apologized, never asked if their son was okay. He would just lie down beside her and sleep like nothing happened. The first time she'd spoken to him about it he lashed out and she never asked again.

A part of her knew why he was like this. His own father had beaten him. The old king never tolerated weakness, neither did Abasi. Abasi had become his father and Abasi wanted his son – their son – to be like him.

Ruhusa growled and her body shook with fear. How could she allow such behavior, such a cycle to go on after so long? Her son! She had failed, failed her pride and her son. She shut her eyes and suppressed the urge to cry. She hoped it would be different this time. That the young lion she'd birthed three years ago wouldn't come home scarred or bruised.

"My lady," asked a lioness.

She turned, sniffing. "Yes, get ready to move." Her words were quick, hastened. The lioness nodded and spoke to her teammates. Ruhusa didn't need to hear what was being said. She'd been through this so many times, she just knew. Thoughts of her son and mate filled her mind again, refusing to leave. She motioned to the lioness. "My throat is parched. I'm going to find a waterhole."

The lioness nodded and Ruhusa silently left the party. Thirst wasn't the only reason. Images filled her mind; sorrow enveloped her heart, followed by a large wave of guilt. _Rightly so,_ she thought to herself. _I am guilty. I didn't defend my son when he was small and helpless._ Her back and shoulders felt weighed down by the power of her thoughts. _What kind of mother am I? I love Abasi, despite his temper, and I love –_ The rest of her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a rustling in the grass to the right. She turned her head and stepped forward, ears raised.

"Who's there," she asked in a commanding voice.

She waited. Then a form emerged, one she knew well as it made its way towards her. She relaxed. It was only him, her son. With a smile she looked on him, but her smile was quick to vanish from her face. Something was wrong. Blood covered his muzzle and paws. Her heart jumped in her throat, then sank into her stomach. Had he been in a fight with a rogue while patrolling the borders with his father? Had her mate died in the fight?

The air around her grew cold and she glanced up at the sky. There were dark threatening clouds. In the distance sparked two flashes of lightning, but she wasn't her concerned. She had to see to her son, find a waterhole, and return to her team so they could hunt. Hopefully they could grab two kills and go home before it rained. _And by the looks of the sky, it's gonna rain hard,_ she thought.

She wanted to call out to the young lion, but he spoke first. He's shaking, she noted. Whether it was from the weather or what he had to do out there on the borders, she couldn't tell.

"Father is dead, Mother," said the prince, his voice toneless, emotionless.

Her heart jumped, sank and then jumped again. Her emotions rose and fell. Lifting one foreleg into the air a bit and setting it down, she managed, with great difficulty, to take a step back. Had she heard correctly?

"H-he's dead?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper she wasn't sure if her son heard the question.

The prince continued to make his way to her. He nodded sharply. "Yes, he is."

Ruhusa wasn't sure what frightened her more. The weather, the fact that her mate was dead or the way her son was walking and talking. Perhaps it was all three. "How do you know? I-I mean, was it a rogue?" Quickly, she chided herself. _Of course it was!_ She bowed her head.

"Mother…"

His voice made her raise her head and she could feel a tear trying to escape. The cold air increased, making her shake violently. Thunder rumbled softly. She shook herself and as she studied her son, she was fearful. He had just been through a traumatic experience – fighting off the rogue lion that killed his father. Then the queen and her son were face-to-face. Ruhusa looked into his eyes. They were fractured, devoid of their gray color.

"My son…" she said, her voice quiet, and as she prepared to lay her head on his shoulder to comfort him she was knocked to the grass, landing on her side. She shook her head and looked up. He had hit her. She put a paw to her face. All words left her.

He came up and stared down at her. In that moment Ruhusa understood the reason for her fear. He was shaking, not from killing the rogue but from… The prince smiled, revealing his bloodstained teeth.

"Yes, now you understand, don't you Mother? It's about time."

She sniffed the scent of blood on him. It wasn't foreign, the scent of a rogue's. It was her mate's. Her eyes widened in horror. Had her son –

"That's right, I killed him, and now it's your turn." He ran his claws along her side.

She cried out and shut her eyes against the pain. She gasped. "M-my son –" A sharp blow to the head cut her off.

"Son, _son_ you say? I am not your son and you are not my mother!" he raged and ran his claws against her side again. "How could you? You just stood by while he beat me when I was a cub. And in the years following you never stopped it, never, not once!"

Tears fell down her face. "I-I-I wanted –"

"Don't tell me anymore lies, Mother!" His eyes snapped. "You told me I'd be all right! Well, I'm quite all right now!"

"Son…" she said weakly. She was powerless, helpless and no one would come for her. Her mate was dead at the paws of their son. Soon, she would join him. She had to surrender. She would.

The prince rained down blow after blow on his mother until he had to stop due to exhaustion. The thunder grew loud in his ears, lightning flashed in his peripheral vision. The wind blew hard around him as he stared at the now mutilated body of his dead mother, the queen. He gasped for air. Just looking at her, at the spilled blood on his paws, blood that had mixed in with the blood of his father, at the blood on the grass around and under her body was enough to make him sick and make his mouth water simultaneously.

His heart pounded, his pulse surged and the thirst grew. He had killed his parents, but he still wasn't satisfied.

The pride… the lionesses…

Another memory filled his mind.

"_Abasi, my love, let him be, please!" pleaded Queen Ruhusa._

"_I will not! I told him exactly what to do," the ruler said angrily, staring at the one year old male. "He needs to know how to hunt… properly!"_

"_Perhaps, if I take him on the hunt –"_

"_No!" said Abasi and he slammed his paw into the young prince's head, the force sending him to the ground. He growled and snarled. "Get up!"_

_The prince shook his head and shakily tried to get to his feet. He fell and looked on the pride. Everyone stood to the side, all with sad pained stares. They, like the queen, his mother, were doing nothing… They were all allowing this. One lioness his age bowed her head, a tear falling down her cheek. The rest became a blur as his father's paw connected with his head again and soon, very soon, he lost consciousness._

The memory ended and a thought replaced it. "Nothing," he muttered darkly. "They did nothing… Then… then they deserve it too. T-they could've stood up for me, they could have attacked him… But they didn't, out of fear, cowardice…"

He knew what he had to do. Just as he had suffered for so many years, from the time he was a six month old cub, he would make them suffer too. Oh, yes, he would make sure they did. And he would relish in it. Though he had killed twice, and wanted to continue he was tired. His body quivered and his heart pounded. Adrenaline ran through his body, his teeth chattered and his mouth ached for the taste of blood.

The thunder intensified, the winds increased. The sky was nothing but a large place of blackness in the wake of the impending storm. And the storm in the prince's heart also grew, wildly, fiercely, with no sign of leaving. The storm in the air would continue into the next day. So would his act.

_Just as they did nothing for me, just as they did not come to my rescue, no one will come to theirs…_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

There was no rain, only hot air, suffocating everyone and everything. The dark clouds never left, just grew. Whether it was night or day, no one could tell. Thunder sounded, roared, and lightning flashed periodically, illuminating the lands with its frightening and powerful strikes.

The mother lioness struggled under his weight, his paw choking her, hoping to make all breath out of her gaping mouth cease. From her position she watched as a young lioness, around the lion's age, leap and jump onto his back, but the lion arched himself with ease, throwing her off. For all he knew, the precious female was unconscious when she hit the ground, but it wouldn't be her ultimate fate. He stared down at the lioness, relishing the look of fear and horror in her eyes.

"Why?" she gagged. "Why are you doing this?"

The prince looked at her and revealed blood stained teeth. "You don't know? You don't _KNOW_?" He roared and slammed his other paw down on the side of her face, leaving claw marks.

She cried out and shut her eyes, avoiding the blood she could feel dripping down the left side of her face. "Please, sire, don't!" she pleaded.

"It's too late for apologies lioness! I don't need them, not anymore. But back then…" His eyes snapped, showing a deep anger and pain she couldn't place. He knew she couldn't. None of the others had. None of them knew why. They were that dense, that stupid and foolish to put what he had suffered out of their minds for their own sakes. And for those who had cubs… the mothers put his suffering out of their minds for their children's sakes.

The rest of the pride had been easy to find the previous day. After he killed his mother, he'd waited. When two lionesses showed up, as he knew they would, searching for their missing hunt leader and queen, he attacked them. Then he left, going to another side of the kingdom to rest, thinking it best to leave the remaining lionesses on the hunting party alone so they could go on with the hunt and return to the caves where the pride dwelled. And, no doubt, tell them about their fallen queen and two pride members. He, meanwhile, had hunted for food. It satisfied his blood thirst, but all through the night, as he slept in a cave on the southern side his mouth ached for the taste of more, but his catch for dinner, an antelope, had been enough.

The next day he killed the lionesses on the hunting party, one by one. And he'd found this lioness under his paws, her cub, a few other lionesses and their cubs by luck, while wandering today. He'd hoped to satisfy his thirst for blood, himself, his urge and his ache. But satisfaction never came. He never questioned it, just simply savored it.

Using her eyes, the lioness looked around and saw him, her son.

"Momma," the cub asked frightened, all the while his red hazel eyes went from her to the dead bodies of two adult lionesses and his three friends. They were all dead. His friends' with their necks broken, their mothers covered in claw marks, teeth marks and blood. The reason he wasn't was because of the lioness pinned under the prince's weight. She, his mother, had saved him.

"Run, my son," she managed, the lion's paw pressing her head harder into the grass.

"Momma," yelled the cub, horrified, but he was lifted off the ground by someone picking him up by his back. It was another lioness, one he knew well and loved like a second mother.

"Shabihi, take him, take him and run!" the lioness cried out.

"Yes, run, but you'll be next, both of you!" the lion sneered with a malicious look on his face. "And… for the grand finale…" Then he looked back down at the mother, seeing the horrified look in her eyes, feeling the pleasure in his own. Her horror and his pleasure coursed through him. He shivered in it. With no words, he lowered his head to her exposed throat. His teeth sank into her fur, tasting the warm blood. He gave a quick jerk, one of many so far and more yet to come.

_Oh, yes, many soon to come._

He spat and turned his head in the direction the lioness and cub had fled. He smirked for a moment and looked around, sniffing the air. The sickening, yet wonderful smell gave him more anticipation.

"Go and run," he called out. "But I'll find you!" Then he let out a powerful, tremendous, blood curdling roar. Thunder rumbled louder than before, shaking the earth, and lightning flashed behind him, the glow illuminating his body and his eyes.

He still wasn't satisfied. The thirst ran all through his body, coaxing him to continue.

Continue he did.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The smell of blood filled the air. There was blood on the ground, the rocks, the grass, and in the waterholes. It seemed blood was everywhere almost as if it had rained down from the skies with fury, like rain, without ceasing. Bodies covered the land – Some dead zebra, others gazelle, antelope and wildebeest – all the common substance for a lion's meal. But they weren't alone.

All over the kingdom, strewn on the ground in the lions' caves, some half drowned, bodies lying afloat in the waterholes, while others were sprawled out in the savannah, laid out for the birds to feed on what was left of their flesh. These were the bodies of lionesses, cubs, cheetahs, leopards. There seemed to be no end to the streaming mass.

On the borders of the kingdom lay the still bloodied body of the king. He was hardly recognizable because of his torn, mangled form. He'd lain in a pool of his own blood for days. His queen had also been slain along with their pride.

Any other animals in the lands had fled quickly, not wanting to be the next victim. Only a few birds stayed and roamed the still darkened skies. The rest couldn't stand the horrid smell, the stench of death. The kingdom was gone, its leaders dead, its inhabitants slaughtered.

The grass, dirt, waterholes and rocks seemed to be soiled in the blood of the animals that once lived. Now they were dead. The sun had yet to shine in the last three days. The dark clouds in the sky seem to hang over the lands – a bad omen, a terrible sign of more suffering to come. Whether they would bring rain, stragglers didn't know. They didn't care. Rain wouldn't change what they were seeing, what they smelled and wouldn't be able to stop smelling for days. Could the blood stained grass be cleansed and made green again?

The murderer, whom many animals that managed to escape now knew to be the prince – their heir and would've been future king – had gone on a psychotic killing spree, sparing hardly anyone. No one, not even the ones who managed to survive, be they herbivore or carnivore, knew why. The prince had also killed the shaman, a cheetah. He had torn her throat out and left her bleeding at the entrance to her cave.

The kingdom had been brought down, bathed in blood.

On all four borders of the kingdom the stragglers could only look at the devastation, of the place they'd once called home. But it wasn't. Not anymore. It was no longer a kingdom, but a graveyard.

Not wanting to breathe in the smell of death any longer the stragglers, some four-legged, others two-legged, all turned with low heads and walked out of the kingdom. Many ran, while others walked solemnly. Mourning for those who had lost family and friends was just beginning.

But on the northern border, two figures, a cub and a lioness remained. Other than the murderous prince, they were the only survivors of the once mighty pride.

The lioness looked down at the cub.

The cub looked back. She was not his mother, but he was given to her care by his blood mother just before her death. The lioness, Shabihi, not in words, but action, vowed to look after him, to raise him as her own. He sniffed and flicked the red tuft of mane on his head absently, sadly, as a tear rolled down his tan face. His red hazel eyes filled with sorrow and he buried his head in his newly adopted mother's foreleg. She purred to ease his pain, but it was hard for her too. She'd lost her queen, her friends, even a sister to the lion who would was supposed to lead them one day.

But that day would never be. In a week their lives had come crashing down, their hearts plunging into their stomachs. Their lives would never be the same. And since they were the only ones they had to keep the memories of their friends and families and the lives they themselves once had alive. Where the murderer was they didn't know, but the lioness found that she wanted revenge. With such feelings she knew she couldn't raise her adopted son properly. On top of that the prince could be anywhere, far away from the lands for all she knew, and what kind of life would her adopted son have if he was raised for revenge?

She shook the thoughts away and gently nudged him. "Come on sweetheart, we have to leave…"

The cub buried his face in her foreleg. "Momma," he sobbed.

The lioness wrapped a paw around his shaking body. Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed. "I know, I know. I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

"I m-miss her…!"

"I know you do. I do too."

She didn't want him around the blood smelling land anymore. She didn't want to be either. She looked down at him. He'd collapsed at her paws in exhaustion. Gently, she picked him up by the scruff of his neck and turned to leave the only home they'd both ever known. All they had now was each other and she could hope and pray that the prince, the murderer of her friends, and her newly adopted son's mother wasn't on the borders.

_I hope you never forget what you did to us!_

In that same thought she hoped he would be haunted by what he'd done to them for the rest of his life.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

In the middle of the still blood soaked savannah a figure walked, looking on the dead bodies sadly. The figure, a lion, wasn't alone. Another lion was with him, also looking on the devastation.

The second lion sighed and looked at the first with a hard expression. "This could have been prevented, you know."

"I know."

"So why didn't you?"

The first lion, with a light tan/golden pelt and white colored mane, lowered his sky blue eyes, shaking his majestic head. "You know better than that," he said gently, but firmly. Again he shook his mane. "It doesn't work like that. It never has."

His companion scoffed. "It could have!" he yelled insistently. "Look around you, look at this, this disaster! You could have interfered; you could have sent us – your obedient servants to stop this before –" A sharp blow to the side of his face cut the lion off. He fell, the pain in his cheek spreading to the rest of his body. He looked up at the white-maned lion in surprise. "What was…" he started, but was interrupted.

"You know why," the lion said in the same firm voice, which was usually filled with gentleness. Now it was rising with anger. "They were given free will."

"Yeah and look at what the prince has done."

The white-maned lion surveyed the area, his eyes falling with a saddened gaze. He pawed the grass and raised a paw, looking. There was blood. "I have seen what he's done. He has killed."

"And he escaped! Since we're here we must find him."

"No."

"No? What do you mean by that? If you're so –"

"Watch your tongue."

"I'm sorry, but surely you know – Well, of course you know."

The older male smiled, pain etching his features. "Yes, I do know, and I know what you're trying to say." He took in the smell of the air. The horrible stench made his stomach crawl. "We will not find him. He must deal with what he has done, but he won't. He will bury it deep in his mind and keep it there."

The young lion stared. "You mean he'll suppress _all_ of this?"

"He will."

The two were silent for a moment and then the second lion, pointing his dark red maned head in no particular direction, spoke in a soft voice. "So what becomes of those he has killed?"

"You already know, Nduli. It was you who brought them to me when they died."

"I'd prefer to hear it from you, if you don't mind."

The light tan/gold lion sighed. "The innocent – the cubs, and the mothers who died to save them, they'll be okay. They, and the shaman, my servant, will live in the paradise I created for them."

"So the other adults, they will…" Nduli paused.

A sigh escaped the sky-blue eyed lion's mouth. "They will be judged, yes."

"Including the king and queen?" the red maned lion pressed.

"Yes, including them. They must be judged and punished."

"But the queen… she took care of her son after the beatings."

The white maned lion shook his head. "One good act doesn't change anything. She was supposed to protect her child _**before**_ any harm could come to him. A mother's duty is to nurture, care, and protect her child from all things that may do their child harm, including family." The male shut his eyes. "It's why they were created."

"What about the king?"

"He, too, will be punished. He will join his father and grandfather in that punishment."

Nduli nodded gravely. "You…" He paused, licked his maw and then tried again. "You are just…"

"And you know I cannot let Abasi's sin go unpunished."

"Yes, Lord."

The Creator and his servant finally came to the edge of a border of the kingdom, standing side-by-side, quiet, solemn.

"What will happen to Abasi and Ruhusa's son, Lord?" the young lion asked. "What will happen to the prince?"

A wind came and blew the Lord's mane outward. His whiskers twitched. "He will live a painful life out in the world, but he will not remain there for very long. I have a plan for him…" He glanced to Nduli. "And do not worry about the lioness and the cub. I will be watching over them, and the prince. I shall be with all of them. Remember that I have plans for all of my creation, whether they know me or not."

"But, will they meet again, Lord?" Nduli couldn't help but be curious, filled with questions like these, especially with the smell of death in the air, in every breath he took. Though his name meant angel of death, and being so was his service to the One who created him, it didn't mean he liked death. _But it's part of the balance,_ he thought to himself. _Without death there can be no life, and without life there can be no death._ He waited for an answer. None came, only silence. He nodded lowly. _It's not for me to know,_ he thought again. _That's okay, maybe I –_

"You will know when the time comes," said the Creator, speaking his servant's thoughts.

Nduli gasped, but not in surprise. His master was the One who formed all the dead behind him with his paws and breathed into each of their mouths the breath of his life. He closed his eyes. His master had so many names, so what was he now extending mercy to the murderer of nearly every pride member and animal of these once beautiful lands? Wait mercy… merciful… He was being merciful and not striking down the one who had created this slaughter, this place of death!

"Lord Rahimu," said Nduli, his voice heavy, his tone careful, "the prince, wherever he goes, will… Will what has happened here –"

"It will not. Suppressing the memories of all this and of his shattered and broken cubhood will make him different. It will make him the lion he should have been, but he will have a hard life."

The lion's ears went back. His confusion increased.

"Be at peace. All things will be righted. Until then, the three who are alive will live. Nothing will happen to them unless I allow it. Do you understand?"

Nduli bowed his head. "Yes, my Lord. If I may ask… the lands will they…"

Rahimu gave a small, sad smile. "Until a good, righteous lion enters and proclaims his kingship, these lands will stay as they are. Word will spread from the animals who escaped about this massacre and only brave beings will enter to learn. Other than that…"

"This place is a graveyard."

The Creator put a paw on the lion's shoulder. "It won't always be. Come, it's time for us to leave."

He nodded, but looked around one last time. He wouldn't see these lands, let alone anything else from this viewpoint until another creature died. But animals died every day. Nduli, and others in heaven with his position, were always about their Lord's work. He would return when he was commanded. But for now, in his final moments in the place where the Lord allowed his flesh bound people to live, where he would always watch over the righteous and the wicked, the guilty and the innocent, those who knew him and followed him, including those who did or didn't know him and refused to follow, Nduli, the angel of death still wondered about the prince, about the lioness and her adopted cub.

"Do not wonder," said the Lord, looking on his servant with gentle eyes. "All things work together."

Again, the lion nodded, comforted by the words of his master. He closed his eyes. "Yes, Lord."

"I will watch over them. Even in their darkest moments, I'll be there. They are not alone. Remember that."

"I shall, Master."

With a soft wind blowing, the Creator Lord Rahimu and his servant, the angel of death faded, returning to the heavens.

And any animals that stood on the borders or just near the stricken realm felt blessing and peace. It would be enough so they could continue their lives. It would be enough to put the nightmare of the last week behind them.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:** The prologue was long, I know, but I felt it was necessary. Kept you in suspense, I hope. There's more to come. And to those of you who are… curious as to why I put God in here, well, there's a reason but I'm not explaining that reason to anyone. So I hope you'll continue reading as I update.

**Name Translation:** Abasi 'Stern', Ruhusa 'Leave', Shabihi 'Resemblance', Nduli 'Angel of death', Rahimu 'God; Merciful'


	2. Chapter 1

Okay, guys and gals, before we get started I wanna thank those of you who read and reviewed the prologue. It is much appreciated :)

And to those who have read, but haven't reviewed, could you please do so? That would also be appreciated.

Also, to answer some questions left by the reviewers…

**Milamber – **Thank you for calling the prologue epic. That's what I was going for. And yes, I have read The Chronicles of the Pridelands and consider the entire saga as a whole to be absolutely amazing and a great source of inspiration for writing. Aiheu did inspire me to put in God or Rahimu into this story, and He will play a special part. I hope you continue to read. Thank you very much.

**Orgrandebatata** – As always, your reviews are a delight to me. It seems that there was some confusion with what you read in the prologue, so let me use this time before you read the new chapter to clear it up… Shabihi is not a lion, but a lioness. Therefore she is not the prince of the lands that suffers such slaughter. Shabihi is the lioness who saves the last remaining cub. You'll be seeing Shabihi and her adopted son in later chapters. And yes, Abasi was weak and so was his mate, Ruhusa. Everyone has some kind of weakness, right. And don't worry, I'll try not to keep you in suspense as to what this story is about too long, but every story has a beginning, even if this one does begin in the slaughter of a realm and its people. Also if the idea of deities intrigues you, well, that's great. I hope this chapter does the same.

All right, I think that just about clears it all up, now, on with the show!

**Chapter 1**

King Dhoruba of the Western Plains stared out into his kingdom, watching the sunrise. Glancing up at the sky he noticed it was going to be a mildly clear day. A few clouds here and there, but he didn't care. As long as the sun was shining, he was pleased. But he couldn't smile no matter how long he looked out into the lands.

In the distance, he could see some animals as they made their way to the waterholes to drink or bathe, or both. He wished he could join them. But he was rooted to his seated position on the rock ledge. He'd been there for hours. He'd slept there, leaving the warmth of the royal chambers, the close soothing presence of his mate, the queen, and the knowledge that his grown son and daughter were there because they wanted to be, because they'd been sleeping in those chambers their entire lives. They were born there.

His pride of lionesses slept in the main den behind him.

The guardians, the protectors of the kingdom and the royal family, had their own chambers in the main den. The guards were a family – literally related by blood. Dhoruba bowed his head, knowing that the time for them to go out and patrol was nearing. He didn't have to tell them. They knew what to do and when to do it. He trusted them, all of them, but the eldest guardian, the male, same age as he… Dhoruba trusted him with his life, just as his late father-in-law, the former king before him, had.

A yawn escaped Dhoruba's mouth and he shut his eyes. Even with the sleep he'd gotten he was still tired. He knew why and it made him shake his head.

"Maybe I should see Ibada," he muttered to himself as he looked down at his claws. He considered it, and with a flick of his head, dismissed the idea. Even if the shaman of the Plains could help him, explaining it was what worried Dhoruba. If he explained it he would see it in his mind. He trembled. Having the dreams, or the nightmares as he'd mentally come to call them, was bad enough. Explaining them in full detail to anyone, let alone the shaman himself… Dhoruba shook his head sharply. No. He couldn't go to the shaman… yet.

He shrugged and shook his pitch-black mane. How he wished there was an explanation for the nightmares. Every time he went to sleep he found himself in a place he didn't know. A place that was dead. The grass was dead and the stench of death and blood entered his nose, making him gag. Dried blood covered the grass, and bones… For miles around bones were scattered all over. What kind he didn't know. In that place he would run, calling out, "Hello! Is anyone here?" But there was no reply, just a wind.

His ears flickered, his whiskers twitched, and he yawned again. "I should try and sleep," he said quietly.

"Dhoruba?" a voice from behind asked.

The lion turned, and for the time since waking smiled. "Kesha," he said, speaking his mate's name with soft love. He rose and was about to approach when she walked toward him. They nuzzled, Dhoruba licking his mate's cheek, Kesha laying her head on his mane. Then they pulled apart and stood together, side by side, surveying their realm.

Dhoruba looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He studied her, her light sandy brown fur. She was beautiful and her mildly dark blue eyes – a contrast of the skies color after the sun had set, before the appearance of the stars and moon… He'd been drawn to them and her the day he met her. Thinking about it brought a warm feeling to his chest and he held on to it.

Then he spoke, an ear flickering. "Jibade and Mpenzi are they…"

Kesha smiled. "They're still sleeping, as is the pride."

Dhoruba nodded and yawned. "Good, good."

She gently nudged him. "You were out here all night." It wasn't a question.

He looked down at his paws. "Yes. I… I couldn't sleep."

"You're having the dreams again?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "They're still the same. I-I'm in an unknown land and the grass is covered in blood and bones… It's all so confusing." He shivered. _What does it have to do with me?_

"Maybe you should talk to Ibada."

He tensed. "I… have considered that, but…" He ran his tongue over his lips. "I'm not ready."

Kesha stared at him. His almost bloodshot eyes showed her just how his body was feeling. _Yet he's able to sit up…_ She could see that he was staring at her in confusion. She shook herself, looked back at the lands that were still being bathed in the sun's light, then turned to him again. It was a moment before she spoke.

"Dhoruba…" she started.

He turned to her. "What is it, Kesha," he asked gently, tiredly.

She caught on and formed her next words carefully. "Why don't you go to our chambers and rest?"

His light gray eyes widened. "Kesha, no, I can't. T-the guardians… they –"

She put a paw on his. "Bukua knows what to do. He always does. He'll handle their routes. And I was told yesterday that the food the hunting party brought home yesterday is more than enough to last us today and possibly tomorrow."

Realization filled his tired eyes. He knew where she was going and he shook his head. "No, Kesha. It's my job to look after the kingdom. Hubiri is coming soon to give me report."

The queen smiled warmly. The royal advisor, her late parents' majordomo, was a reliable cheetah. "Yes, I know, but you know as well as I that you can't take care of the animals' problems when you're, as Ibada would say, 'asleep on your paws'. Please Dhoruba, let me see to the animals. It's been a while since I involved myself in kingdom politics." She shrugged a little. "I don't want all the training my father gave me to go to waste."

Dhoruba opened and closed his mouth a few times, musing. "You really want me to take a day off, don't you?"

"No, I just want you to relax. Maybe you're having these nightmares because of stress."

His ears flickered and he stared at his paws, then the lands, the light of the sun shining off the grass. He nodded. "You could be right," he said softly. "Okay, I'll go to our chambers and rest for the day."

She nuzzled him. "Thank you."

He smiled. "No. Thank _you_ for wanting to take care of things."

Kesha reached up and licked his cheek. "That's what I'm here for, Dhoruba. We're a team."

He sighed with a tired peace. "You're the best partner and queen I could ever ask for."

"Then be glad my mother only birthed me, otherwise, if she had birthed other royal lionesses, you would've had a lot of girls competing for your affection."

He touched his nose to hers. "Even if you did have sisters it wouldn't change anything. I still would've married you."

She smiled. "And my parents still would have approved."

They shared another nuzzle until a voice from behind interrupted.

"Please, Mom, Dad, not in front of the kids."

They turned around to see their son and daughter smirking. The young royals, both three years old, approached. Every time Dhoruba looked at them, seeing how their pelts were a mix of his color and that of Kesha's, how Jibade inherited his light gray eyes while Mpenzi had her mother's beautiful blue eyes, he knew deeply that was blessed to have two amazing children. His son and daughter, two other creatures he loved as much as Kesha. The three of them were his family and he would do anything to protect them.

"Good morning you two," said Kesha as she nuzzled her son.

"Morning, Mpenzi," Dhoruba purred fatherly.

Jibade gently head butted his father while Mpenzi did the same to her mother. The four royals sat near the ledge, staring at the horizon and after a while of peaceful quiet Jibade turned to his father.

"Dad, Bukua and his family have already left to patrol. They went out the back entrance and took a few lionesses with them." He looked at his mother who nodded with a smile.

"Good, that's good, Jibade," said Dhoruba. "Thank you for telling me."

The prince smiled then rose to his paws. "Shall we sit in the grass and wait for Hubiri?" he asked.

Here, Kesha addressed her son. "Jibade… your father didn't sleep very well. So you and I will be waiting for Hubiri and we'll deal with the animals."

The prince and princess exchanged glances. "Is everything okay, Dad?" asked Mpenzi.

Dhoruba looked at her. "I'm just tired, sweetheart."

She nodded.

He turned to his mate. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Kesha smiled at him. "Go and rest. The kingdom's in good care."

He licked her cheek, gave a soft smile to Jibade and Mpenzi, rose, and left. He didn't speak to the lionesses in the den, though many of them said good morning or bowed their heads to him. The darkness of the den made him feel a weight of fatigue fall heavily onto his shoulders and when he stepped into the royal chambers, his legs felt heavy and numb. But he forced himself to keep moving though his aching muscles were screaming at him to just fall on the floor and rest in the middle of the chamber. He couldn't.

Instead he trudged his way to the side wall opposite the entrance and laid down, rolling onto his left side, his back to the entrance. In a few moments his eyes closed, his breathing deepened. He forced his mind to dream not of the reoccurring nightmares, but of a time when he'd been lost and found.

When he first entered the Western Plains and his acceptance by a king changed his life.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba had been born a prince, but he had chosen to live life as a rogue. The moment he stepped out of his father's kingdom he'd sworn to never look back, for doing so would bring painful memories. His life as a prince was not the most happy.

As a cub he had lived in fear of his father who was nothing more than a tyrant. As an adolescent he had tried to protect the younger cubs from his father, who would take out his anger on them and later their mothers. But when his mane started showing his father began taking him on his patrols. In the years that followed one event finally persuaded him to leave.

He wandered the wilderness for a long time. He never kept track of the days. What was the point? But in his wandering he met a few other rogues. One had beaten him for the sake of doing so.

Another was thin and had been born into his lifestyle. Proving gentle and having seen him in his beaten condition the rogue shared his food and gave him a place to rest. Dhoruba had accepted kindly, and the two departed ways the next morning. It was appropriate. Rogues didn't travel together unless they were in a coalition. Dhoruba wanted no part in one and had only come across a group one time. They'd asked him to join, he politely refused. One member didn't like his kindness and attacked. The leader saved his life and told him where he could find a grazing group of antelope. Two days later he recovered. The next day he hunted down an antelope.

He'd wandered the unknown world for days after that, being mindful of other animals who told him that the places where he'd sleep during the night were the borders of kingdoms. Animals who informed him guided him to safe shelter and advise him to leave as soon as possible before the dawn, which, of course, he did.

Days continued to pass. They seemed like nothing. Daylight would come and so would night. It was simply the natural order. Who would bother paying attention, especially in the open where living itself was a struggle, a battle.

A zebra he'd hunted on a rainy evening had kicked him in the head, preventing him from hunting that night. For a few days he'd wander with dizzy vision and would sleep out in the open because his head pounded so hard and looking for any kind of shelter proved difficult.

There was a time when he didn't eat for days, longer when he'd go without water. But a rogue's life, despite its great challenges, was better than what his life would have been if he had stayed in the kingdom he was born and raised in.

There were times when he had to fight to keep his meal, other times when he killed a lion or two because they refused to share their shelter. He'd even gone for four days without sleep and his body would grow weak from lack of food and water. But he kept wandering, searching. For what he didn't know but giving up wasn't an option. He was struggling to survive, had to fight to survive. He was tired. He was weary.

Then came a day when he stumbled on rich green grass. He was too tired to sniff the air, to smell if wherever he was walking was a land already taken. It wasn't until he heard a voice that his head, pounding from the pain of another fight he managed to survive, slowly turned toward it. It was the voice of a lion and he spoke in a loud voice that rang in Dhoruba's ears and increased the pain in his head.

"These are the lands of King Amri of the Western Plains," the lion sounded. "I, Bukua, servant of His Majesty, mark this territory to defend it in the name of the king and of our Sovereign Lord Rahimu, the Creator of all!"

The pains in his head, his stomach, and the great dryness in his parched throat grew. Dhoruba shook his head and took a step forward. He needed help. He needed food, water, and shelter. _If only for a few days…_ He stumbled a little.

The lion spoke again, his voice commanding. "Speak, rogue," he growled. "In the name of King Amri I demand you identify yourself!"

Dhoruba swallowed, despite the pain in his parched throat. "I… I'm n-no threat," he said weakly. "H-help m-me…" Then he collapsed. Darkness closed in on him.

The lion, known as Bukua, walked upward and sniffed him. He looked him over. The intruder's ribs weren't far from showing. It looked as though he hadn't eaten in a week or longer. His mane was dirty, disheveled; his pelt looked like it needed a good grooming. Even his paws were blistered. _You've been through a seriously rough time, haven't you?_ Bukua sighed deeply, knowing what he should do. He even knew what his king would do. _You'd never turn away anyone who's in need of help, would you, Amri?_

He looked around then back to the collapsed rogue male. He sighed again, shut his eyes for a moment then opened them, determined. It took a few tries, but he managed to get the unconscious lion up on his back. Thankfully his charge didn't weigh that much.

He started his trek home. The sky was covered in the light of the setting sun. Evening was fast approaching. By the time he reached the pride, everyone was eating the kill. His stomach growled, but he still had a job to finish. He met eyes with his mate and then gazed on the king who rose with a firm expression on his face, his light sandy brown colored pelt turning dark in the light of the setting sun.

When Bukua entered the den and stepped into the back cave he heard the king's voice not far behind him. "Who is this, Bukua?" the ruler asked.

Shrugging the lion off his back, watching him slip to the ground, Bukua turned and began to explain. Amri listened, an ear flickering every few moments. Once he finished Amri was silent, looking down at the unconscious lion.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but he looked like he wasn't a threat. And… well, look at him, sire," the guardian finished, speaking the last word kindly.

The king did, eyeing the stranger up and down. Like his guard, Amri noticed the near seeable ribs almost poking in the visitor's side. "You did the right thing, Bukua," he said at last. "Clearly, he is no threat and looks like he hasn't eaten for a long time. Go get the shaman, and take Ajia with you. I imagine you'll want to tell her everything."

Bukua bowed. "Yes, sire…" He left, and bowed to the queen, her daughter, and son as he did.

"Amri," said Queen Malkia, "what's wrong with him?"

"A tired rogue in need of help, 'Kia," the king replied, sighing heavily. "I sent Bukua and his mate to fetch Ibada."

The four royals sat in silence, each of them staring at the strange lion. A while later Bukua returned with the shaman. Amri excused the guard and Ibada went to work.

The medium large dark brown red monkey examined the lion, putting medicinal herbs on the lion's blistered paws. Running his hands through the male's maned head he felt a large bump on the back. Keeping one hand there he chewed on an herb, spit it on the ground, dipped a leaf in it, and placed it on the bump.

Sighing and rubbing his hands on his thighs, he looked on the royals. "That's all I can do for your guest, your majesties," he said. "However, physically, I can tell you that he hasn't eaten in days, maybe weeks. He's gonna need plenty of food, water, and proper rest to get himself back into shape. I'm not sure how long it will take."

King Amri nodded. "Okay, thank you, Ibada."

The shaman bowed. "If you, anyone, or he, need anything else, send for me."

"We shall. Good evening, Ibada." When the monkey left, Amri turned to his mate. "Let's go out the back. There's something we as a family need to discuss." He exited the chamber, the queen and prince following, but the princess stayed behind, her eyes transfixed on the lion before her.

Queen Malkia turned back. "Kesha, are you coming dear?"

The young lioness looked at her. "I'd like to stay here in case he wakes up."

"Very well," said Malkia.

When she was sure they were gone, Kesha walked up a few steps, studying the lion. Despite his poor condition he was handsome. She laid down a little ways from him, facing him. Where did this lion come from? How long had he been wandering in the wild? Did he have a pride? Part of her wished he would wake up. _What you must have been through,_ she thought. _You're safe now. You can rest. I know my father. He would never turn someone in need away._

Outside on the back ledge, Amri was in deep discussion with his wife and son. At first he wasn't sure his idea would work, but Malkia, ever faithful and supportive of his feelings of responsibility to any innocent animal that entered his kingdom, was quick to agree.

"He will need some time to get his strength back," the queen said. "For all we know he probably has nowhere to go."

Amri smiled. "Taraji, what do you think?" he asked his son.

The prince of the Western Plains, bearing his father's fur color and his mother's soft light green eyes, looked down, thinking. He shook his dark brown mane a little and stared at his father. "I'm not going to lie to you Dad, I _am_ hesitant. However… no rogue lion would say he needed help and then collapse if it wasn't true. Yeah, sure, let him stay. Maybe something good could come of it."

The king's eyes shined with pride. He also knew that Kesha, his daughter and heiress, would say the same. She wouldn't believe that this rogue, once he was healthy, could pose a threat to any of them. That was Kesha, so loving and trusting. She would agree with her family. They returned to the pride where Amri informed them of the injured rogue Bukua had brought to the caves and Amri's plan to let him stay until he was healthy. No one opposed. He was the king and his responsibility was to the kingdom and those who lived in it, even strangers passed out on the borders.

When late evening fell, the strange lion woke up, groaning softly. He opened his eyes only to see a paw a few steps away. He blinked a few times and heard a female voice.

"Oh, good, you're awake."

He groaned again and tried to raise his head. The movement was painful but he managed. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in my pride's den, in a spare cave. A guardian named Bukua found you passed out on the border."

_Bukua…_ The name sounded familiar, but how did he get… Then it came to him, almost. He hadn't eaten in so long and seeing the rich grass he knew he was walking in a land already taken. But he'd known he needed help. He'd heard a voice, heard a name, a rank, the name of the king, what the land was called… He shut his eyes. "Bukua," he said softly.

The female spoke again. "Yes, that's the guardian's name. My father is the king here. Our shaman already looked you over. He managed to take care of your wounds, including a pretty bad bump on the back of your head. You should be okay in time."

He managed to take all this in, even though it hurt to do so. He glanced down at his paws, his brow furrowing. Why were they covered in large leaves? Then he remembered how his paws had ached for the longest time. Not even licking them soothed the pain. Whatever the shaman soaked the leaves in there was hardly any pain. _Oh, sweet, sweet relief!_

He looked up at the lioness again and was awestruck. She was the daughter of the king. And she was beautiful, probably the most beautiful lioness he had ever seen in his life. Her fur was a lovely light brown sandy color and her eyes were an early evening blue. Despite his still tiredness he was mesmerized by her. Then he looked away.

"Your guard said that your father's name is Amri."

The lioness nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"And these lands are the Western Plains."

"Correct."

He yawned. "I'm sorry. Still tired, I guess."

"It's okay. You can go to sleep. If it's all right with you, sir, I'll stay here and keep an eye on you."

He glared at her. "I'm not dangerous."

"I know, but given what you've suffered out there, away from the safety of a kingdom…"

"Gonna baby-sit me, huh?" He managed a small but painful smile.

"If I were I'd be telling you in no uncertain terms to sleep, but I won't."

"Much appreciated, miss."

She also smiled. "You'd best try to rest. You need it."

"You're right, I do. And if you've been watching me all night, you do too, my lady."

"What's your name?"

"It's Dhoruba, ma'am."

"No need to call me ma'am, it's too formal."

"Okay. What's _your_ name?"

"I am Kesha, princess and heir of the Western Plains."

He would have bowed his head in respect if it didn't hurt so much. "It's an honor, Princess."

"Just call me Kesha, please."

He smiled again. "Very well, Kesha." Slowly, he put his head down. "How long will you stay?"

"As long as you want me to," she replied, putting her head on her paws.

His eyes closed. "Thank you." His breathing deepened as he settled into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning the rest of Kesha's family introduced themselves. He found the king, Amri, to be both gentle and wise. Amri's mate, Queen Malkia was the same. The rulers knew each other well and seemed to see eye-to-eye on the same things, especially his staying for a time. Though he'd lived as a rogue for far too long what he endured… maybe it wasn't for him. Maybe he'd found these lands for a reason. Maybe the kingdom's guardianship could use another. But that was thinking way too fast. He hadn't even been in the Plains a day!

Prince Taraji, Kesha's twin brother looked hesitant, but Dhoruba assured him he would abide by the kingdom's laws, respect the royal family and help however he could once his strength returned. The answer pleased the prince and he was welcomed into the kingdom.

For three days he took it easy and Kesha continued to stay with him, to which he didn't mind. The only time she would leave for long periods was when she joined her father on his walks through the kingdom. He wondered about her and what in the world possessed her to want to watch over him. In spite of the fact that they barely knew each other, Dhoruba found her company very pleasant.

When the shaman came in to check his wounds on the fourth day, Dhoruba told the monkey how he had gotten them.

"You have a lot of courage in you to fight for survival, sir," said Ibada as he redressed the lion's blistered paws with new leaf bandages. "You didn't have a choice, I know. It's a miracle you found these lands when you did." He then peeled back the leaf bandage on the back of Dhoruba's head and replaced it with another. "That wound is the gravest. If it had gone any longer without a shaman's medical attention…" He paused. "You would have suffered far more than a concussion."

"Oh. Well, thank you… for everything."

Ibada put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm a shaman. It's my job. You continue to rest. No walking too far for a while, other than to take of nature's business, okay?"

"I understand. Thank you, Ibada."

The shaman smiled and left.

That night, after Dhoruba ate his part of the kill, a part he'd shared with the princess who was still watching over him and sleeping a few feet away, he let out a deep sigh. His head still hurt, his paws too, but the food was good, the water tasty and refreshing, even if it was from a gourd brought by the shaman when he was checked the first day. In the quiet darkness Dhoruba wondered how long it would be before he could get up, walk around, and explore these lands. He had no doubt that the Western Plains kingdom was huge. Most were, his homeland included.

As much as he wanted to learn just how the pride lived, he also wanted to help. The guardian Bukua had saved his life. King Amri offered him sanctuary and parts of the morning and evening meal. And he was still a stranger to them but he no longer felt that way. He felt like part of the pride. Maybe he was. He found himself hoping.

As he looked around the cave, his eyes stopping once again on Princess Kesha he knew, that once he was fully well, he would not want to leave. Even now, he didn't. He wanted to stay, thinking he had some kind of purpose.

_Maybe they could use another guardian,_ he thought to himself.

With that same thought he finally slept.

In time his wounds healed and he told King Amri he wanted to stay in the Western Plains. The leader and his mate gladly accepted. He knew he had done the right thing, and as the months passed he fell in love with Princess Kesha. A part of him had known he would. And he was glad.

His life was finally good. He could put the past behind him permanently.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When Dhoruba opened his eyes he saw nothing but the walls of the cave, the royal chambers. He picked up his head and slowly rolled onto his stomach. He wasn't sure whether it was still daylight outside, but he pushed the question away. He blinked his eyes and sighed, feeling better than he had before. Dreaming about how he came to the Western Plains and how he met his beloved mate gave him a sense of peace. It felt good to dream something wonderful for a change.

Dhoruba got to his paws and stretched, shaking his mane. Then he looked around the chamber. No one was there, except him. He yawned, shook his head and walked to the entrance, his legs a little numb. When he stepped out into the main den, the lionesses were talking softly. He noticed everyone eating pieces of meat. His stomach growled. He was hungry.

_I slept longer than I thought. Just as well. I needed it._

"Your Majesty," said a lioness near the den's opening, "is everything okay?"

Dhoruba looked at her, seeing concern in her eyes. He smiled. "Yes, thank you." He looked at the pride again. Everyone looked content. "The hunting party," he said, turning back to the lioness, "did everyone –"

"They're okay, yes, sir."

He nodded. "Excellent." He dipped his head. "Good evening." He proceeded out of the den until the lioness called from behind. He turned.

"Sire, you'll find the queen in the grass on the southern side, at the first waterhole you see."

Dhoruba smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

The lioness bowed, smiled, and returned to the others.

Outside, Dhoruba looked at the sky. The sun was sinking, the lands bathed in the light of the sunset. He breathed a sigh of peace, knowing sleep, but the dream, had done him good. Sniffing the air he started running to the southern side. He loved running, especially through his lands. He felt free, calm, and he was certain that the setting sun was turning his medium gray brown body dark. There were no animals, at least none that he could see and he had to wonder how they reacted to meeting with the queen instead of him.

After a while he stopped and sniffed the air again, looking about, his whiskers twitching. Then he saw it – the first waterhole on that side. It was large, with a few trees around, providing shade. Two good-sized rock ledges provided extra rest and relaxation. One lay just ahead of him, the ledge itself jutting out over the water, the other ledge on the opposite side was the same. His eyes scanned the area until he saw her. Her light sandy brown fur showed an almost red color in the sunset's light.

He smiled, approached and bowed. "Good evening, my lady."

Kesha looked at him and dipped her head. "Good evening, my lord."

He lay down beside her. "One of the lionesses said you were out here. Where are Jibade and Mpenzi?"

The queen's right ear flickered. "They're with Bukua and Ajia's kids." She laughed. "Although I shouldn't call them that because they're not kids anymore. Ours aren't either."

Dhoruba chuckled. "In many ways it seems only yesterday that all five of them were playing in the grasses near the caves, doesn't it?"

Kesha smiled and nudged him. "Yes it does, but they're growing is part of the balance." She paused. "How did you sleep?"

He nuzzled her, murmuring, "I slept well, very well."

She licked his cheek. "No nightmares?"

"No." He pulled away and stared ahead, studying the lands. "How was everything?" he asked, his tail tapping gently at his side.

Kesha followed his gaze. "A few disputes, nothing serious. The zebras and antelopes were complaining over the lack of grass on the eastern side."

Dhoruba shook his head. "I should have settled that yesterday. I wish they would understand that just because you and I rule, it doesn't mean we control the weather. Rahimu does and He'll give us rain when he feels the lands are ready for it."

Kesha nodded. "Everything works in His time, not ours." A sad smile crossed her lips. "I remember my father telling me that. He used to say that Rahimu's ways are not ours ways and that He doesn't do things according to our schedule but His."

"Amri was a wise lion, probably the wisest I ever knew."

She leaned close to him, her head against his mane. "He loved you, you know, my mother too. They loved you like a son."

"And I loved them like parents." His ears went back. "Their kindness made me forget the way my own parents treated me."

Without speaking Kesha licked his cheek.

He purred and licked her back, smiling peacefully. "Shall we eat?"

She pushed the meat, an antelope leg, over to him with a paw. "I wasn't sure if you'd be really hungry, or if you had already eaten, but–"

"No, I haven't, and I'm not sure I couldn't eat even part of a whole carcass tonight. This leg will do just fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They started eating, the cool air blowing around them. By the time they finished the stars were out, shining brightly.

Dhoruba looked down at the bone and laid his paw on it. Then he looked at Kesha, smiling again. "That was wonderful and quite filling."

"I'm glad," Kesha replied, grooming her face with a paw.

He yawned, suddenly tired. "Are you… ready to go home?"

She rose and shook the grass from her fur. "Are you?"

He stood with a coy smile. "Shall we, my queen?"

They started their walk home, Kesha laying her head against his mane for a long time. Then they raced, laughing throughout. Reaching the den, they carefully stepped over the lionesses and entered their chambers, noticing their son and daughter at the back, sleeping a few feet from each other. The king and queen shared a smile, seeing the sight, and then settled down at the side wall.

Kesha laid down first, then Dhoruba. "If you have any nightmares, wake me up," she whispered.

"I will." He licked her cheek, nuzzling it with his nose. "Sleep well, Kesha."

She licked the side of his face and put a paw on his. "You do the same, my love."

They put their heads down, their breathing deepened.

As he feared, Dhoruba dreamed about a land, the smell of blood lingering in the air, the ground covered with the bones of animals, the trees devoid of leaves, the waterholes barely full, some almost empty. The whole scene frightened him and he whimpered in his sleep. Kesha must have heard because he felt her lay her head on his mane, purring softly to calm him.

His whimpering stopped and he relaxed. Like before, that morning, he forced his mind to dream something pleasant, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the images of the bone-covered land lingered. He wasn't sure, but he could swear that along with the images he also heard screams of torment and cries sorrow.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:** All right people, that's this chapter. I hope it was to your liking. My next chapter should be up fairly soon. I cannot promise as this week is gonna be tough for me, but I'll do what I can. Take care!

**Name Translations:** Dhoruba 'Storm', Ibada 'Service', Kesha 'Stay Awake', Hubiri 'Report', Jibade 'Royalty', Mpenzi 'Sweetheart', Bukua 'Discover', Amri 'Responsible', Ajia 'Swift', Malkia 'Queen', and Taraji means 'Be Confident'


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** All right guys and gals, here's a new chapter. I am deeply sorry that it's taken me a month to update, but I had a rough time with how to start this chapter and how to proceed with, but I finished it and here it is, so I hope you enjoy it!

Now, on with the show…

**Chapter 2**

"_Mother, Mother where are you?"_

_Silence followed for a long moment. The cub continued walking, searching frantically. His ears suddenly rose at a strained sound. It sounded like a roar. "Mother?" he asked, breaking out into a run. The roar came again and he knew something was wrong. It wasn't his mother's roar. He knew the sound of her roar, and this roar was louder, deeper. It was a lion's roar and he'd heard it only a few times in his short life. The great sound didn't belong to just any lion in the pride._

_In the midst of his running tears filled his eyes, a few spilling onto his cheeks. He suddenly stopped, sniffed the air and looked around. He wanted to throw up. His stomach twisted. That smell was horrid. He felt nauseous and certain he was going to be sick._

_All around him were bodies. Bodies of lionesses, some he knew personally, some he didn't. Near them, however, were creatures he'd known his whole innocent life. They were his friends. They were cubs of the pride. They… Tears filled his eyes again; sobs choked his throat, causing a deep ache in his heart. They were dead. His friends and the lionesses around him, the mothers of his friends, were all dead._

_Then he looked ahead and saw a scene he knew he would remember for the rest of his life. There, right in front of him, was his mother, lying on her back. And above her, staring down at her with a bloody muzzle, claws out, preventing her from any kind of escape... He licked his mouth, his eyes watery. He couldn't help but stare in horror, in fear. The lion was the prince himself, the future king. He was going to kill her!_

_In that moment everything made sense, even to someone as young as he. The prince, his future ruler… was responsible for the slaying of the pride, his friends and their mothers! He was probably responsible for the death of the queen and the king too._

_His body trembled, his heart pounded hard in his chest when he saw his mother turn her head. Their same red hazel colored eyes met._

"_Momma," he began, his voice frightened. His eyes showed the fear his body felt._

"_Run my son! Run!" his mother yelled out._

_He saw the prince press his mother's head into the grass with a paw. He yelled again, horror invading his body. He trembled and shook, but all other words left him as he felt himself being lifted up off the ground. Someone was carrying him by his back. Using his eyes, he looked up. It was another lioness, one who often took care of him and his friends while their mothers hunted. His ears perked up as he heard his mother speak for what he knew would be the last time._

"_Run, Shabihi!" the lioness cried out. "Take him and run!"_

_His ears fell flat against his small skull when he heard the prince threaten that he and the lioness would be next. He felt himself shake. He could only hope and pray it would never be true._

_For the next few days, they hid in a cave on a border. As far as the pride was concerned, he knew no one was alive. It was just him and the lioness, Shabihi, his newly adopted mother. She was all he had and vice versa. They had no other family. Everyone was dead._

_They never saw the prince after he killed the cub's mother. But he was still afraid, especially when Shabihi hunted. He always feared she would never come back and thanked the Creator when she did. They remained in their hideout for another few more days until Shabihi told him that they could no longer stay in the kingdom, that it was too dangerous. He could only nod with a silent response. He knew she was right, but the thought of leaving the only home either of them had ever known, with a killer – their own prince – on the loose didn't make it any easier._

_That afternoon they stood on the borders of the kingdom, looking, wondering and silently grieving. That is, until he buried his face in Shabihi's foreleg, sobbing over the loss of his mother. Shabihi told him they had no choice but to go and that she would take care of him. He clung to the promise and the small bit of hope it gave._

_It was all he had. She was all he had._

The lion woke to a gentle shove in his shoulder. He groaned, opened his eyes, blinked and yawned. It was morning and the sun's light shined in their keep, at least at the start of the entrance way. The cave was small, but there was just enough room for him and…

Shaking his head he saw the lioness staring down at him. He smiled at his adopted mother and narrowed his red hazel eyes. "Were you hunting again?" he asked.

She tried to suppress a smirk. "You've hunted for us for the last three days. It's only fair if I hunt now and again."

He rose to his paws and nuzzled her affectionately. When he stepped back he glanced quickly at the gray in her muzzle and fur. "Mother, a lioness as old as you shouldn't be hunting," he chided gently.

"Are you calling me old, Akanni?" Shabihi asked with a mischievous, challenging look.

He chuckled. "Not in an offensive way. I'm just…" He suddenly stopped, his throat aching.

Shabihi stared at him. "Akanni… you're my adopted son, and I love you. That's why I have not and will never allow you the burden of hunting for me because I'm aging. Besides, I've been a hunter all my life."

He sighed heavily. "And no amount of prodding on my part to take up the hunts will change your mind, huh?" His lip curled into a smile.

She nudged him and licked his cheek. "That's right."

He rolled his eyes and walked out of the cave with her. He yawned again and stretched, shaking his mane. "Okay, fine. So, what did you catch?"

She walked up and put a front paw on the kill, which Akanni saw, was a healthy looking medium sized gazelle.

"Where did you find it?" he asked.

"There's a good sized herd not far from here to the east."

Akanni nodded. "Well, this catch should feed us this morning and evening."

Shabihi nodded back. "Yes."

They came to a nearby waterhole, drank, returned to the kill and lay down beside it. Shabihi blessed it and they started eating. Silence filled the air and Shabihi noticed how the shade of their home, which she figured was a kind of jungle, seemed to provide a peaceful atmosphere. They'd been here for over a week, both of them tired from wandering. But wandering had been the key to their survival, their one way of hoping to avoid running into the lion who had forced them from their home by means of murder.

Chewing a piece of meat, Shabihi looked her son over. His eyes were nearly bloodshot and his reddish mane was disheveled. Clearly, he had slept hard again. She continued to eat in silence, knowing why Akanni sometimes had trouble first getting to sleep and why he'd sleep so hard through the night. He still dreamed of the day his real mother died. She couldn't blame him. If anything she understood. She often suffered dreams too, often heard the cries of her pride sisters as they died, heard the violent roars of the prince as he slaughtered the innocent. The sounds had haunted her sleep for the last four years and whenever she and Akanni wandered she was always on the lookout for the prince or any malicious rogues.

She shielded Akanni as best she could when he was a cub. She had taught him to be alert, how to fight and hunt when he showed signs of growing a mane. Watching him now she knew his mother, wherever she was in the heavens, was watching over them, thankful to her for loving him as her own and keeping him safe.

She chewed another piece of gazelle meat. Eating breakfast in silence was their way, always had been. Dinner would be the same.

When the meal was over, Akanni dragged the remains into the far back of the cave. Hopefully no wandering predators, namely rogues, would smell the scent of blood. Sometimes blood bothered him. Not the sight, but the smell. It pulled him back to the past, when the prince had gone on his rampage, killed the pride and his mother. Akanni felt himself shiver as he walked to the cave's entrance and, from there, watch as his adopted mother went over to the shade at the waterhole to rest. He knew what would happen next. He'd spend the day playing guard, not that he didn't mind. He never did. It was fine with him, just as long as he was doing something. He needed to keep busy.

He stepped out of the cave, walked forward, looked back to make sure Shabihi was all right and then stared ahead. His whiskers twitched, his tail lashed softly behind him. Thoughts raced in his mind, but one always struck first. He never told Shabihi this, but he longed that they would find a pride and settle down. He wanted that, to have a peaceful life, maybe fall in love with a lioness and have a family. It wasn't that he felt burdened or trapped, or suffocated. Why should he? The lioness sleeping not far from him had saved his life. He'd called her Mother from the time he was a cub, only because she had sworn to protect and take care of him after he'd lost his blood mother.

Shabihi was the only family he had left and he knew she wouldn't live forever. He also knew she would never admit the truth to him – that she was getting old and that traveling would finally do her in. He feared losing her. If she died he would be alone, left to wander the world by himself. It would be up to him to keep his senses alert and in tune. To be on the lookout for the prince whose evil actions had killed his mother and forced him and Shabihi from their home and out here in the unknown.

In the last year or so he often imagined what it would be like to see that murderer face-to-face. He often basked in the idea of what he would do if, by some miracle, if he ever saw the prince. True, the last time he saw him was when he was a cub. If he saw him now… Akanni trembled. There were times when he imagined killing the prince in the same manner he'd killed his mother, or in the way he'd killed the king, queen and the rest of the pride members. Including his friends who didn't have the chance to be spared, but slaughtered along with their mothers.

Akanni looked down at his paws, rubbing them on the grass. He drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His ears perked up and then back down again. He had been spared for a reason. At least, he hoped so. True, he had a life with his adopted mother, but something in him longed for more, much more.

He closed his eyes, his heart aching, plunging into his stomach. No matter his deep desire to be part of a pride, a family, he would _not_ abandon Shabihi. She needed him. And he needed her. He had a responsibility to the lioness that saved his life. No matter what happened, she was his first priority, his first obligation. She was the last lioness of their home pride.

He felt a soft wind blow about him and stir his red mane outward. He breathed in the air and felt a peace that seemed to wash his fear and thoughts of the past from his mind. However long they were gone he would welcome it, relish it.

He had to smile. _Thank you, Lord Rahimu._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba stepped out of the main den, yawned, stretched and shook his mane. He walked up to the stone tip and sat, breathing in the cool morning air. He stared ahead. The warmth of the sun was comforting, soothing and he soaked in the feeling. His whiskers twitched and his eyes fell to the ground. He'd suffered nightmares during the night, but the closeness of his wife had made it bearable. He was able to sleep without being pulled too deep into the dreams. He was grateful to Kesha and the comfort she provided.

"Maybe I'll be able to focus today," he muttered to himself. Oh he hoped so.

He allowed the quiet to wash over him, but thoughts invaded his mind. The nightmares, still in the same place – a blood covered and bone riddled land – were different than the others and it caused a chill to run all through his body, eliminating the sun's warmth. He'd always heard sounds, voices crying for help, or pleads for their lives to be spared. But this time, in the midst of those, he heard another voice, an angry voice that shouted negative words and echoed in his ears.

Dhoruba shrugged and shook his head, keeping his eyes focused on the lands before him and the horizon. He knew he should go and see the shaman, but then he would have to explain what was wrong with him. How could he tell the spiritual leader and healer of the Western Plains that he was dreaming of another kingdom that smelled of blood, was covered in bones, and that he was hearing voices, that, to his surprise, all sounded frighteningly familiar?

"I _should_ go to him," he said quietly. "Ibada… he could help me understand." But if Ibada could help him, it would mean that the shaman would have to get inside his mind. No! As much as he trusted the monkey allowing him to get even a peek inside his mind would bring up memories he did not want to remember. He wanted – no, had – to keep those memories buried.

"Dhoruba…"

He smiled. The voice of his mate always made his heart beat softly.

She walked up and sat beside him, nuzzling him gently. He licked her cheek. "How are you?" she asked, pulling away.

"I'm all right. I think I may be able to meet with the representatives today."

Kesha nodded. "That's good." She looked ahead for a moment, then back to him. "Jibade told me he was going with Bukua and his son to patrol the southern side. Ajia and her daughters will patrol the western."

Dhoruba smiled. "Excellent. What about Mpenzi?"

"She'll be with the hunting party."

He nudged her. "And you?"

Kesha shrugged. "Hubiri told me yesterday that he would meet either you or me at the waterhole in the northern part of the lands. And speaking of that…" She stopped, rubbing her paw along the stone ground. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

His eyes widened a little. "You enjoyed it that much?"

She laughed. "Yes, I did." Then she drew closer to him. "Not only that, but if you get tired I can…" She trailed off, ears going back.

Dhoruba knew what she meant. "Are you sure?" he asked.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "If I weren't I would have said so." She paused for a moment. "Dhoruba, you need me." And seeing he was about to protest, but she silenced him by continuing. "I also _want_ to go. Don't get me wrong, as much as I love hunting, yesterday made me realize how much I miss helping the representatives with their problems. I'm with them when they're alive and not looking their members in the eye with their throats in my mouth ready to kill them."

The king considered her words and nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. And, though I did sleep a little better last night… You're right. There is a chance I could get tired." He smiled at her and then nuzzled her tenderly. "Thank you, Kesha; I don't know what I'd do without you."

She licked his cheek. "Or I without you…"

He pulled away, looked out at the lands, then to her. "Since Hubiri wants to meet us on the northern side, let's go now. He could be there waiting for us." Dhoruba rose and started walking down the stone, Kesha by his side. Their coats rubbed against each other and Dhoruba glanced at her. He was so lucky to have her and he hoped against anything and everything that he would be okay. That he would get through any problems the animal representatives had for him without having to find a place to rest. He didn't want to leave Kesha with the burden of doing his job.

_But I am deeply glad to share it with her._

He sniffed the air and breathed it in. So far the lands – he looked at Kesha and smiled – _their_ lands were at peace. His pride was at peace, his guards, his children and their friends. All was well, all was right.

_**You're a failure, pretending to be someone you're not…**_

Dhoruba stopped, the words running around in his head. Where had they come from? He licked his lips and looked at the ground, gripping the grass blades with his claws. They'd unsheathed when the words sounded in his mind. He shook his head hard, shut his eyes and growled.

Kesha turned, saw he wasn't at her side, then looked behind her. "Dhoruba, what's wrong?" She walked up to him, concern filling her eyes at his posture. He looked in pain. "Dhoruba…"

He opened his eyes, seeing the grass and slowly raised his head to meet her worried stare. "Kesha, I," he started but closed his mouth. A part of him wanted to tell her that he'd changed his mind. That he wouldn't go with her. He shook his head. _No, I can't say I'd go with her and then tell her no. She needs me! I can't do this to her, not again. Not for two days straight._

"Dhoruba, are you okay? Do you want to go and sleep?"

He had half expected to hear the words in a harsher tone. But he knew Kesha. She wasn't one to speak harshly to anyone. In fact he never once heard her raise her voice. She was so much like her late father King Amri it made him smile.

Knowing what he had to do, Dhoruba spoke. "Don't worry, Kesha, I'm okay. I just had a thought, that's all." He tried a smile and watched her rest her head on his shoulder again. He basked in the feel of her so close to him. If anything it gave him great comfort.

"Are you certain?" she asked softly.

He licked the tip of her ear. "Yes." He pulled away and smiled genuinely. "Really, Kesha, I'm okay." He started walking, Kesha following. He moved close to her and forced the thought away as it tried to spring up in his mind again. They were similar to words he hadn't heard in years. His father… He shrugged faintly and put it out of his mind, his memory.

_It all happened a lifetime ago. It doesn't matter. My life has been too good these last several years and I am not going to let the past ruin it. So help me, Lord Rahimu._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The prince of the Western Plains, the only son of the king and queen, looked around, his ears perking up. He sighed deeply, his whiskers twitched. Nothing was wrong. The animals on this part of the southern side just lingered. Some drank from the waterholes, others ate from the grass. For the most part, everyone was at peace.

Prince Jibade turned to the right, watching his longtime friend Hadhari, son of guardians Bukua and Ajia. His eyes were sharp, alert and his attention on nothing and everything. Jibade couldn't suppress a smile or a smirk. Hadhari was filled with, as his name suggested and meant, 'caution'. He'd always been that way, even when they were cubs. Jibade often wondered how his friend could always be like his name and still find the time, or want, to love and be kind to others including his family.

His ear flickered as he regarded his best friend. The way Hadhari saw the world and others was so different from his own views. But, they themselves were, different. He was a prince, the heir to his parents' throne. And Hadhari was a guardian. It was in his blood. It was his duty to serve and protect the lands and its leaders. Jibade studied him intently. The young lion's medium light brown coat shone in the sun, his sea-green eyes were on full alert, his gaze fixed. He focused on only one goal: listening for signs of an intruder.

Jibade couldn't help his admiration. Sometimes he envied the guard for being in such control. Oh, Hadhari could love when it suited him, especially when it came to family, and… Jibade chuckled. His friend would never admit it, not even to him, that he really liked Mpenzi. Jibade wished he just would admit the truth to him and tell Mpenzi, but what about him? He, too, had a lioness he truly liked, but didn't have the courage to speak up: His best friend and like brother's sister, the first daughter and second born child of Bukua and Ajia – Nasila. Jibade gently pawed the ground. He found it amazing that both he and Hadhari – the only sons of their parents – cared for two lionesses who were the second born of their families. But he knew that life was strange, full of mystery. And he loved it.

"How's your dad, doing, Jib?" When the prince didn't respond, the other lion tried again. "Hey, Jibade!" he shouted and waited until he had the royal lion's full attention. "I asked about your dad. How's he doing?"

The future king shrugged. "He's… doing okay. Still having those dreams and he hasn't gone to Ibada to find out what they mean."

Hadhari gave a weak nod and tried to think of an appropriate response. "He will. Maybe he just needs time." He sniffed the air. Still, there was nothing out of the ordinary. His father would return soon to tell them so.

"I hope you're right," Jibade said softly. "I'm worried about him. Yesterday my mom and I met with the animal leaders, not that that's a bad thing. My mom's just as capable, if not more." He paused and his ears went back. "He's tired an awful lot. So much these days I want to yell at him and demand he go and see Ibada. But he won't. Not until he's ready." Jibade glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye. His light gray eyes flickered a little. "Maybe he does need time."

"Your father doesn't run this kingdom alone," the light brown lion said quietly as a gentle reminder. "He has my parents, me, my sisters, and he has you, Mpenzi, and your mother. He has an entire pride of lions and lionesses behind him."

Jibade felt himself shake. Hadhari was right, he knew, but it didn't quench the worry he felt. He forced his mind to think of something else. An old memory came.

When he was a cub he'd asked so innocently if his father had grown up in the Western Plains. Even now, to this day, he remembered the pained look that had filled his father's face, how he had shut his eyes and gave a soft growl. The noise had made Jibade step away from his father in fear and he'd asked himself if he said the wrong thing. But his dear father, the king himself, had turned to him and wrapped a loving paw around his small body, pulling him close, purring in a way that made him feel safe.

"It's all right, Jibade," the ruler said, nuzzling him. "You did nothing wrong." Looking into his son's eyes, seeing the same gray color he saw in his own eyes whenever he looked at his reflection in the waterhole, he continued. "No, I didn't grow up in the Western Plains. In fact, I wasn't born here. I was born and raised in another kingdom far away. And… as much as I loved it I couldn't stay. I longed for something more, so I left." He stared out into the distance. "The outside world away from a kingdom isn't so kind, Jibade. I learned that right away, but I pressed on, knowing I would find just where I needed to be." A smile crossed his lips. "And I did, but I was near death when I found it." He turned back to Jibade and nuzzled him. "Your grandfather, King Amri, let me stay in the Western Plains so I could get my strength back, and it was your mother who took care of me." He pulled away from his son, smiling, love shining in his eyes. "After experiencing such wonderful kindness I couldn't leave. I told your grandparents I wanted to stay and the rest…" A chuckle sounded in his throat. "Well, you know the rest."

Jibade had smiled then and he found himself smiling now. But even with that particular memory, worry and concern still bothered him. He loved his father too much and a part of him knew that the past – whatever it was – had something to do with his father's strange dreams.

He wanted to know what, but, at the same time, he was afraid to find out.

When Hadhari's father, Bukua returned to them, the three lions continued their patrol, the animals bowing their heads in respect to the young prince along the way. Seeing such honor and admiration made Jibade's heart and spirits lift.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba was glad he had his mate go with him. He was glad because, as he feared, after two meetings, he was unable to focus and asked her to take over. So far, he'd watched her handle three separate cases with the representatives, all on the southern side of the kingdom. He didn't know how many problems would have to be handled and he didn't want to think about it. In the last few hours he noticed how her handling the animals was so different from his.

While Dhoruba sat in the grass and listen to the animals talk, with Hubiri at his side, Kesha interacted with them. She would talk with one representative to the side, while the other watched and then do the same to him or her. Once she got all the facts, she would speak with Hubiri and ask his opinion. Only twice today had she spoken to him and he gladly gave his advice. The rest of the time she handled it on her own. It was the way she handled situations presented to her that proved astounding for Dhoruba. He felt his heart pound and elation fill him up with love for her. She was good at dealing with the squabbles of the animals, if not better, than he.

Dhoruba chuckled. _She's the daughter of a king, just as I was the son of a king…_ His eyes fell, his face ashen with pain and he shook his head. _It doesn't matter,_ he scolded himself mentally. _You did the right thing, having her come._

He lay in the shade of a nearby tree, a waterhole behind him. Licking his dry mouth, swallowing and feeling dryness in his throat, he rose and drank. The water was refreshing and he lapped three times. Water dripped from his whiskers and he sighed with slight contentment. Turning, he sat and watched Kesha, who was talking with a wildebeest and giraffe representative. A part of him wished he was involved. He was king and it was his duty. He bowed his head.

The idea of going to Ibada sounded more and more appealing with each passing moment. As much as he wanted to go to the shaman's tree, he couldn't leave Kesha. He didn't want to and he'd come too far to bail out now. Going was, after all, his idea. His ears rose as he saw the two representatives' bow to the queen and part ways. Dhoruba wondered just what kind of ruling Kesha gave. He sat up straight. She was coming to him with a concerned look on her face.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "All is well. How are you?"

_So that's why you're concerned. _"I'm all right, Kesha," he said warmly. Then he shrugged, looking away. "Although… I do feel guilty."

She tilted her head. "Why?"

He sighed deeply then turned back to her. "I wanted to do my job, spend time with you and get through the day without having fatigue fall over me. I didn't… I didn't want you picking up where I –"

Kesha put a paw on his, drawing close. "Dhoruba, really, you don't need to feel any kind of guilt." She stared at him. "Are you sure you don't want to see Ibada? We could go together."

He nodded. "I know, but I…"

Thinking she'd overstepped, she nuzzled him. "I'm sorry."

He smiled and put a paw on her side. "No, it's okay. You're concerned, and I appreciate it." He licked her cheek and pulled away. "Are there any other cases?"

She shook her head. "That's it for the day, thanks to Hubiri. He kindly suggested that I go and spend time with you."

Dhoruba tilted his head. "What about the other representatives?"

"Hubiri can handle them. You know that as well as I. He's a good advisor."

"Yes. Yes he is." He stepped close to her, a smile on his face.

She smiled back. "Feel well enough to walk around?"

He laid his head atop of hers. "With you… always…"

They left the area and Dhoruba felt himself relax a little. As long as he was with Kesha he could keep the fatigue at bay. As long as he was with her the nightmares wouldn't come with such force. He relished the feeling of her by his side. He loved her and their son and daughter more than life itself.

_If I was a failure in your eyes, Father… then why would Rahimu bless me with a wife, kids, and a kingdom such as this?_

Dhoruba shut his eyes and heard Kesha's soft purr.

When they settled to sleep in the cave that evening the nightmares weren't as bad. Kesha had, once again, pressed herself close to his side, her face buried in his mane. The feel of her head on top of his soothed and calmed him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Time was a strange thing in the outside world. Time seemed separate, isolated… non-existent even. For so many years Shabihi was used to time in her former pride. Everything had its routine, including her lifestyle. Waking among her pride sisters, sunbathing with them, resting in the shades of the trees with them, and – what she loved the most – hunting with them and taking the kill back to the caves. _That_ was life, fulfillment, and she enjoyed it so much. There were times when she cub-sat for her friends, another thing she loved. Times like those took her back to her own cubhood, and how she and her sister would play with their friends under their mother's watchful but loving eye.

She had watched Akanni and his friends while his mother hunted with the other lionesses. And she had shielded her adopted son from the lion who killed his mother. But Shabihi wasn't able to shield herself from watching that same lion kill everyone she loved. She detested the prince so much that she never spoke his name again. It had been four years since that terrible day, but every bit of it had been burned into her memory. Whenever she thought about it, whether consciously or not her ears would flatten against her head. Often pain would fill her and her blood boiled. She had saved Akanni, prevented him from being the prince's next victim. But she'd been unable to stop him from killing Akanni's mother and she was powerless to help her friends. She had watched her own sister be pinned down by the prince, who clawed her chest and tore her throat out.

Then he had looked at her, his eyes wild, snapping. He'd had the horrible nerve to smile at her, revealing his bloodstained teeth. In that moment she had run for her life. But the one thing she really wanted to do was attack him, pin him down with all her weight, press her claws against his maned chest, draw his blood, and then tear out his throat. She wanted to see how he would feel, wanted to watch him struggle. She wanted him to feel like her sister and friends.

But she had done none of these things, though the idea had swum in her mind for the rest of that painful night. It wasn't until she'd seen young Akanni's mother the next day, pinned to the ground by the prince, and Akanni, so little, so innocent, watch with fear in his eyes as the prince prepared to kill his mother right in front of him. But Shabihi had also seen the bodies of the other cubs and their mothers, all of them dead.

It was in that moment – a moment that haunted her still – all thoughts of wanting to avenge her dead sister left her mind. Akanni had become her priority. As much as she, at times, blamed herself for not being able to save Akanni's mother, she knew that the lioness wanted her to get her son and take him away. Seeing the dead cubs had crushed her heart and she knew she couldn't have another die. Akanni _had_ to live. It was the reason she grabbed him and fled.

Shabihi's ears rose and flickered as she heard the soft sounds of the small animals that lived all over their makeshift home. She was sitting at the cave's entrance, unable to sleep. The gentle calls of the birds gave her peace, but so did the warm, gentle breezes that came during the night. Looking at the sky, she studied the stars, wondering if her sister and friends were up there. Was Akanni's mother? Was she looking down on the two of them from her place in the heavens? Was she pleased that Shabihi fulfilled her silent promise to keep Akanni safe, to raise him as her own?

"I hope you're proud of your son," she whispered to the stars, a tear falling from her right eye, cascading down her cheek. Then she turned her head, watching Akanni who was sleeping a few feet from her. She could barely see him in the dark, but his red mane stood out. She had to smile. Her adopted son was such a handsome lion. _You'd make a good lioness a wonderful mate…_ She knew he would and sometimes she chided herself for not finding a kingdom that had a good pride and a good king who would take them in.

She found herself wanting that, not just for herself, but for Akanni too. He was so young and had lived as a rogue for nearly all of his life. He needed a pride; he needed community, territory and safety. He needed to have the life that brought him wholeness, completion. He needed to find a good lioness to fall in love with, marry, and have cubs. He needed to have a true life. And she felt it was her fault he didn't have it.

If anything, she needed community too. She needed to be among other lionesses, to call them her friends, pride sisters, and to hunt alongside them. In their old pride there was a great feel of excitement when she was with the queen and pride sisters on the hunting party. She felt part of a team and she missed that.

She turned her eyes back to the sky. _The prince took it all away,_ she thought to herself angrily. _Not just from me…_ Sadness gripped her. _He also took away Akanni's innocence, his life, his mother! I am so sorry, Akanni! Oh, my loving son, if I could go back I'd have pushed that monster off of your mother, told her to take you and run! I'd have died in her place! Surely, somewhere deep down, you know that, don't you?_

Shabihi sighed, sniffed and walked to her sleeping spot in the cave. She tried to put her head down to sleep, but sleep would not come. She forced her eyes shut. She had to sleep, if not for her own sake, then for the grown lion sleeping not far from her. The lion she'd raised from his cubhood, the lion she loved as if he'd come from her own flesh. Finally, sleep came, and her breathing deepened.

When Shabihi surrendered to sleep, an hour later, Akanni opened his eyes and raised his head. He panted heavily and swallowed. His throat was dry. Shaking his mane, he rose, looked to make sure his mother was all right and stepped out of the cave making his way to the waterhole. They'd only been in the place for a few weeks and Akanni had the feeling they would be moving again soon. They traveled a lot, but he never minded, not even as a cub, though he longed for a place to permanently call home. Akanni knew that if he ever settled in a place that was not under the protection of a king and his pride he would go crazy.

He approached the waterhole and lowered his head down to drink. The cold liquid filled his mouth and he savored the taste. He sighed in relief, in a moment of peace. For the time being all was right and he and his mother were still alive. He sniffed the night air. Even the warm weather brought a sweet sense of relief.

He returned to the cave, to his sleeping spot and stood, staring at the lioness he'd been calling 'Mother' every day for the last four years. He tilted his head, knowing a truth Shabihi would never tell him. She was getting older. Even now, just looking at her she appeared older than her years. And this life of hard living wasn't doing her any favors. He was amazed he turned out the way he did. But he knew the reason for it and it caused him to smile. He was the way he was because of her. Because of her love and great tenderness, because of the way she put his needs before her own, how she was constantly on the alert for the lion that destroyed their lives.

Akanni's ears flickered and his gaze went downward. It had been four years since he and Shabihi saw the prince who had slaughtered their rulers – his own parents – their friends and their families. In all that time, Akanni wasn't sure he would recognize the murderer if he ever saw him. Surely he would have changed after all these years, right? He'd never been around the lion who was supposed to be the next king, and now that he thought about it he was glad.

Shabihi had done all she could to make sure he was safe as a cub. While he was growing up, she taught him to fight, to hunt, to sniff the air to smell for strange scents. She had taught him everything he would ever need to survive in this harsh world. He knew why. It was to prepare him for a time when she would no longer be with him, when she would pass away to the heavens.

A deep pain at the thought, idea, or notion of losing her pierced his heart and he sank to his stomach, stretching out his forelegs. His claws unsheathed and he stared down at them. A thousand thoughts rolled around in his mind and he felt his emotions rise. Though he couldn't bare the possibility of Shabihi dying and leaving him all alone, he knew it would happen one day. When it did…

He shut his eyes and trembled. Shabihi was the only mother he'd ever known. She had saved his life. His ears went back. She wouldn't live forever but the possibility of her one day dying caused him such pain, that he was often tempted to pray to the Lord, asking Him not to take her because he was afraid to be alone. An idea like that was selfish and inconsiderate. He shook his head ruefully. "That's not how you've raised me, is it Shabihi," he said quietly. "No. The problem is I love you, Mother." He could feel tears in his eyes and he sniffed. "I love you so much…"

He swallowed and forced himself to no longer think of death. What he would do, what he knew Shabihi would want him to do, was focus on the present, on his life and how they would keep on traveling and facing the dangers of the world, but knowing that Rahimu Himself was protecting them. Akanni wasn't sure of that, but Shabihi felt it and was certain. The red-maned lion smirked softly and felt tired. He laid his head on his paws.

"Oh, Rahimu, I know that we must go to meet you one day, but please…" Tears stung his eyes. "Please, Lord, let Shabihi remain with me for a while longer. I still need her and I know she still needs me. Please, God, please. And…" He paused, unsure if whether he should continue, but he had to. It was the first prayer that he'd ever uttered, even if it wasn't for himself. "And… when you do call her to the heavens, let her go in peace. S-she deserves it."

Akanni sighed deeply, his prayer finished. He closed his eyes and sleep finally took him. The air around him stirred, the soft noises of the area soothing him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Author's Note: **Akanni 'Our encounter brings possession'


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Sorry about the delay on this one folks. I had a problem with ideas, but I think now everything is in order.

**Kovukono:** Yes, the plot-line is slow, but the chapter you reviewed was just the second. And not everything I write is fast-paced. Just be patient and this story will pick up.

So, read and enjoy.

**Chapter 3**

Every day for a week Dhoruba told himself to see Ibada. And every day for a week he told himself no, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to make a decision. He was tired of having these strange and frightening nightmares. He was tired of being tired every morning. In spite of the dreams, he thought he was improving a little. He was able to work, to meet with the representatives and help them with their problems.

The first day he managed two cases before he had to tell his advisor, Hubiri, that he couldn't continue. He told him that he would meet with the next group the following morning, which he did, managing only one case before dismissing the majordomo again. The routine, as he called it, continued for the next several days, and nearly every morning before he left Kesha, his sweet loving Kesha would offer to accompany him.

"The hunting party is in good care," she said. "We won't have to hunt for a few days so I'm free to help if you want me to."

Dhoruba only smiled, shook his head softly and peered at her. Then he nuzzled her, laying his head on her shoulder. "I appreciate the offer but I'll be okay, I promise. It's my responsibility, my… burden." He pulled away, staring out into the distance.

"To share with me," his mate said quietly.

Smiling he turned back to her. "Yes, I know. But really, Kesha, I'm fine. If anything changes you'll be the first to know. You have my word." He licked her cheek, knowing she would find something to keep her busy. But her never-ending support of him always brought a surge of love to his heart. And he praised Rahimu for giving him a lioness like her for a life partner. He loved her. Loved her so much she would never know just how much she meant to him, or how it would crush him if anything bad happened to her.

When he first realized that he was in love with her, Amri, her father took him aside for a walk on the western side, telling him things his own father never did.

"The love between a lion and a lioness is a beautiful and sacred thing, Dhoruba," the king said, his head held high. "Love itself is Rahimu's creation." There, he'd smiled. But it was his eyes that showed Dhoruba a gentle and humble nature. Even Amri's son, Prince Taraji had that exact same look. Kesha too, even their mother, the queen. Was it Amri's presence that brought out such a nature? Dhoruba had never seen a lion who behaved the way Amri did, the way he instilled such honor in his own family, how the pride respected him or how the animals admired him.

The king of the Western Plains had looked at him with a warm smile that made Dhoruba suddenly ashamed to look back, let alone be in his presence. What was it about the king that made him want to be like him? To ask where he got this way of seeing life, of behaving? Then the leader spoke in a voice that melted the younger lion's bones.

"The Lord Rahimu created us, and I don't mean just lions and lionesses. He created all living creatures that roam across the land, all over the earth. Each of us He gave a specific purpose, a duty." His ears tipped forward. "The ways of the Lord are a mystery, Dhoruba, even to a lion like me, but I do know that Rahimu created us to live and love." He took a deep breath in and let it out. "Love is, in itself, a wonderful thing too. I love my life, my kingdom, my subjects, and I love my mate and my children. They are gifts, blessings, if you will from Rahimu, and sometimes when I look on them I feel as though I have done nothing to deserve them. But Rahimu felt otherwise. He did not create us to be alone. He gave all males companions, other halves to make us whole. It's just a matter of choosing whether or not you want to share your life with that other half. Most males do, most don't. There's nothing wrong with being single, just as there's nothing wrong being married. It all comes down to choice. I chose Malkia and she chose me. I'd be nothing without her just as she'd be nothing without me. We love each other and by doing so we continue to love Rahimu who loves us unconditionally."

A gentle breeze stirred through Amri's mane. "Often, we are shown love through friendship." He looked at Dhoruba. "You like my daughter, don't you?"

The question stopped him cold. Amri was probably the most observant lion in the entire Plains, but, he was king. Dhoruba knew he would have to be truthful. Amri looked like the kind of lion who could spot a lie. "Yes, sire I do. She's been very kind to me. I enjoy spending time with her."

Amri smiled. "I'm glad. You're a good lion Dhoruba and should your feelings for my daughter grow and vice versa, you have my blessing."

Stunned, the lion could not speak. Instead, he merely bowed his head, offered the king a smile, and continued walking with him in silence until Amri spoke again, telling him again of the sacredness love, and that to love another, whether romantically or in a friend-like manner, was to love Rahimu.

Even before that talk Amri had taken Dhoruba under his tutelage, telling him things his father had never bothered with. To Dhoruba Amri was better than his father, better than himself even. It was as though Amri's only purpose was to teach others the way to live as he did, to love God as he did and to pass on a faith of his that was as deep as a river. Every day Dhoruba drank in the leader's words, hung onto Queen Malkia's wisdom, patrolled alongside Prince Taraji, and sometimes the guardian Bukua, the lion who found him.

But at night he would lay out in the grass with Kesha, watching the stars. Sometimes they spoke sometimes they didn't and Dhoruba found himself not caring if they did or didn't. He was just glad to spend time with her.

The Western Plains had become his new home, the king and queen second parents, Prince Taraji the brother he never had. But Kesha was never a like sister. Instead, or from the first night he met her she had stirred something within him and as time passed his feelings grew.

Even now, as Dhoruba stood on the stone ledge thinking about Amri, his actions, his words he couldn't deny to anyone, or himself, that the way he treated the pride, his family, the inhabitants of the realm was due to the way Amri taught him and how he chose to listen to the wise, intelligent lion.

Dhoruba closed his eyes and silently thanked God for leading him to the Western Plains when he needed a home, a fresh start in his shattered existence. He'd been near death and had found life here. He'd found freedom, peace and love.

He stared out at the lands, admiring the beauty. The Western Plains were so much prettier than his old home, a place he barely remembered. It paled in comparison to this, Amri's kingdom where he and Kesha had been ruling for the last four years.

_**Yeah, it is a pretty kingdom. But you don't deserve it, just as you don't deserve that mate, or your son or daughter. Why don't you leave? They'd be better off without you, especially if they knew –**_

Dhoruba shook his head and shut his eyes, suppressing the growl that rose in his throat. _No! I would never leave them or this land! This is my home and they are my family. They're part of me. We need each other. My past means nothing. I was given a hope and a future when I decided to stay. I will never leave, never!_

The urge to growl was gone, the dark voice with it. He shuddered and trembled and forced himself to relax. He opened his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. And he slowly rose. His majordomo was at a waterhole not far from the keep, per his orders the previous day. As he neared the ramp, however, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Meeting with Hubiri?"

He turned to see Kesha. "Yes." He walked toward her, seeing the slight concern in her eyes. "I know you're going to offer to come with me," he said softly and nuzzled her lovingly. "Believe me, every day, as much as I've appreciated your offers, you can stop." His voice was gentle. He stepped away from her and smiled. "Really, Kesha, I'm fine, have been for days."

She licked his cheek. "I believe you. But, if you need me…"

"I know. Thank you." He put a paw on hers, licked her cheek, nuzzled her again and left.

Kesha watched him go down the ramp and watched him break into a run, his gray-brown form go swiftly through the grass. Her heart sank. "He'll be okay," she told herself quietly, but even as the words left her lips, she wasn't sure she believed them, wasn't sure if the words were for his benefit, her own, or for both of them.

Her ears went back, an idea filling her mind. She shook her head. It wouldn't work, and she couldn't go through with it without betraying her mate's confidence.

_You'll go to Ibada when you're ready… won't you, Dhoruba?_

As she made her way down to the grass she hoped and prayed her husband would seek help from the spiritual leader of the kingdom.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

On the eastern side of the Plains, the prince patrolled with one of the guardians daughters. Not just any daughter but the firstborn female of Bukua and Ajia. She was Nasila. Jibade's childhood friend, the lioness he was secretly in love with. Whether she knew of his feelings he wasn't sure, and as much as he wanted to tell her he couldn't. He was waiting for the right time, the right moment. _Telling her while we're on patrol… Yeah, that'd be a great thing to look back on!_

He watched as she sniffed the air for strange scents. He did the same. Still nothing out of the ordinary and they'd been walking this side for over an hour, or longer.

Jibade tried not to keep track of the sun in the sky whenever he patrolled. He figured doing that would distract him, make him wish that patrolling would go faster so he and whoever he was with could go home, eat from the kill of the hunting party, spend time with his family and get a good night's sleep.

As the only prince and heir to the throne, Jibade felt torn. He loved patrolling, but he also loved watching his mother, father, or both, take care of the animals and settle their disputes. He had to wonder, and did so often these last few days, that once his parents stepped down and let him take over if he would have to choose: keeping the lands safe or the people satisfied. It was a question that settled itself on his shoulders like a burden he had no business feeling just yet.

How he wanted to ask his parents! But they had something else to worry about: his father and his dreams, another thing Jibade couldn't understand. But it was none of his business and he couldn't help his father, as much as he wanted to. The only thing he could and would do was pray that his father got help. That is, if he wanted it.

Jibade shook his head and forced himself to focus on the present task. He didn't want Nasila to look at him with concern. Her brother, Hadhari had done so nearly every day for a week. He grew tired of it, but knew his like-brother was just expressing his own concern not just for him, but for his king. The same could be said for Nasila, not to mention her and Hadhari's younger sister, Johari.

His ears rose, his whiskers twitched. As much as he wanted to see a rogue step into the kingdom, the kind of rogue with malicious intent, he was glad he and Nasila hadn't smelled any strange scents all day. A part of him wanted to use the authority given to him by blood and birth as prince and heir of the Western Plains. He wanted to let any rogue who wanted to take the kingdom from his father know that the future king wouldn't allow it. He wanted to yell the call his father had rarely given in the last few years, "This land is mine!" Jibade wanted to feel the power and authority in those words. A smile filled his face. _Perhaps, one day, my time will come,_ he thought to himself.

Whenever he patrolled he often wondered if malicious rogues avoided these lands as he couldn't recall a time when the guardians ever returned home with scars from a fight. He also wondered if Rahimu Himself wasn't protecting these lands. He heard himself chuckle. "Maybe bloodthirsty rogues are afraid to come against a land whose rulers have put their faith in the Creator of all things," he said, speaking softly. "Maybe that's why the Western Plains and its rulers, past and present, have prospered all these years."

He heard Nasila's voice. "Jibade…"

He jerked his head. "Sorry, Nasila, I was thinking." A sheepish smile crossed his face and he shook his mane, chuckling. "Isn't it strange?" he asked.

The lioness stopped and tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

The prince smiled again. "We, and by 'we' I mean you, me, Hadhari and Johari. We've been patrolling these lands for nearly two years now and we've rarely come across a rogue with malicious intent."

"Well, Jibade, that is a good thing. Why be concerned? The Plains have been at peace for a long time and any malicious rogues that want to take the lands have been run off by my parents and the guards before them."

His ears tipped back. "Yes, I know." Then he lowered his head and raised it again. "Believe me I'm happy about it, but sometimes…" He paused and Nasila finished his thought.

"Sometimes you hope that a cruel rogue _will_ cross the border. You want to be there when it happens so you can sound out the authority you hold as prince and heir."

He smiled and glanced at her. "What are you a mind reader?"

She smirked. "No, but I know you."

He stared. "Yes, you do." Taking a deep breath he allowed the quiet of the area to soothe him. Pawing the grass, eyeing it, he was reminded on how the Western Plains were founded. Another smile touched his face and he shook his mane. Even as a cub he believed the stories his mother told him about the royal line.

"_The Western Plains are a land that wasn't founded on the basis of one lion, Jibade," Queen Kesha said to him one night as they lay under the stars. "These lands were found on the promise of the Lord Rahimu. You see, Jibade, the first king was a lot like your grandfather, Amri."_

"_Your father, right, Momma?" the prince had asked._

"_Yes sweetheart." She nuzzled him and licked his face. "The first king was a lion who loved Rahimu, always sought after Him, even if it didn't make sense to his group of lions and lionesses. They were all chosen to go with the first ruler, to leave their homes and join him in the search of a new one. They were all strangers when they met the lion who is now known as the first great king of these lands. They were strangers with one thing in common: they loved Rahimu and wanted to do His will. So it was with the first king. He left his home pride, disgusted with its unrighteousness, its lack of love and mercy, and it was Rahimu's command that he leave. So he did. With the trust they had for Rahimu in their hearts, the Lord guided the first king and his group to each other and led them here."_

_Kesha's ears tipped back, her mind reeling a bit. She looked up at the stars, admiring their beauty and majesty. Then she turned back her son. "The first king was a lion of great faith, Jibade. He and his mate taught their children of their love for God, and they too walked in faith, as did their descendants. Faith in the Lord Rahimu is why our lands have flourished and all leaders of the past, kings and queens, prince and princess regents made sure to never take credit for the Western Plains peace. To do that would mean –"_

"_Dishonoring Rahimu?"_

_Kesha smiled. "Yes. Well done, Jibade. Every leader of the Western Plains has trusted Rahimu for everything, including safety. But it doesn't mean the kingdom hasn't worried about evil rogues crossing the borders, wanting to take the lands. We will always have those kinds of lions who want to steal from us and kill."_

_The prince's ears perked up. "That's why we have guardians, right?"_

_Love shined in the queen's eyes for this child. Her son was so smart, so intelligent. He must get it from his father, she thought. "Yes, they help your father keep the kingdom safe from invaders who mean harm. The guardians we have are the descendants from the group who came with the first king. Even they believe in Rahimu. And faith in Him is important. Without faith it is impossible to truly live an abundant life and please Him."_

_He snuggled close to his mother's side for warmth, or comfort. Or just to be near to her it didn't matter. Kesha knew Jibade loved her. Maybe a little more than he loves Dhoruba, she wondered, then immediately shook the thought away. Her son loved them both as did his sister Mpenzi._

"_You love Rahimu, don't you, Mother?" Jibade asked, his eyes shining like the stars._

_She closed her eyes. "Yes, I do. He created all things, all animals that walk these lands and what lies beyond. He created you, me, your sister, your father, everyone and everything. He loved us enough to give us bodies and spirits. These lands are blessed because of the leaders' love for Rahimu. They served Him to best of their ability, trusted in Him to keep them, their families and the Plains safe in good times and bad."_

_The prince shifted again. "Grandma and grandpa, they loved the Lord, didn't they?"_

"_Yes, they did, very much my son. They taught your uncle and me everything we know and because of that we have a personal relationship with Rahimu too." Kesha looked up at the sky again, her own eyes shining. A warm breeze came, ruffling the grass under her body and she embraced it, closing her eyes for a moment. "The Western Plains have had rulers who love Rahimu and loving Rahimu brings blessings, Jibade."_

"_And not loving Rahimu, being bad, brings a curse?"_

_Kesha wanted to take a claw to her foreleg and pinch herself. Was this really her son? "Well done, Jibade. Yes, but just because we love Rahimu it doesn't mean life will always be easy. That's why we trust in Rahimu to guide us through the hard times."_

_For a long time the prince didn't speak. He looked up at the stars several times, pondering on his mother's words. Then he leaned against her, his small head resting against her large shoulder. After a while he spoke again, staring up at her, his light gray eyes sparkling._

"_Mom?" he began and the queen looked down at him._

"_Yes?"_

"_I will always trust the Lord, even when I'm king."_

_She nuzzled him deeply, lovingly. She purred. "I am glad, Jibade. You don't know how happy that makes me."_

The memory left and Jibade felt warm inwardly. Every day since that night he prayed to Rahimu before going with the guards or his parents. Whenever he looked at the sun, the stars at night, or the lands he knew in his heart and soul that there was a creator. He also knew that the way his parents acted was not of their own selves or power. When they looked at him and his sister or anyone it was as though they were drawn to something else, something that lived deep inside every being whether they knew it or not. It was God, the Lord Himself. There was no other explanation to the way he behaved, to the way he saw life and the way he wanted to live always.

There was a short silence before Jibade spoke. "Nasila, have your parents ever told you and your siblings about how the Western Plains were founded." It wasn't a question.

The lioness stopped, ears rising, her eyes wide at such a statement. "Yes. They told us that the lands were blessed by the Lord through the first king. That he and his group left their separate homes at God's command, met, and formed a small pride. They were chosen because they believe in God and wanted a life better than what their old homes had given them." Her ears went back a little, then forward again. "Dad often tells us that just as the rulers and their heirs and heiresses are anointed by the Lord to lead the kingdom, the guardians and their families are anointed to protect and serve the kingdom and the leaders. He believes it, as does my mom and my sister. Hadhari…" She paused and a deep pain gripped her chest. Her face was filled in anguish.

The prince noticed. "What's wrong?" he asked gently.

It was a moment before she spoke. "I'm not sure if Hadhari believes as the rest of us. I mean, I'm sure he does, just not in his heart. His name means 'caution'. So, maybe he's being cautious when it comes to Rahimu." She sighed and let out a small sniff. "I wish he would just open his heart. He could find peace, freedom and do his job without having to live up to his name."

He nuzzled her. "If it helps, I'll pray for him."

She nuzzled him back. "Thanks. Knowing you'd do that makes me feel at ease."

Softly, he licked her cheek. "Good." He felt his heart pound. Being near her was amazing, a gift. He took a breath. "Your brother isn't the only one struggling there," he said, his voice quiet.

She looked at him and nodded knowingly. "Your dad," she said softly.

The lion sighed heavily. "He's still having the nightmares and won't go to Ibada." Jibade tried to get a grip on the emotions that slowly rose in his throat. He let out a small growl. "Maybe he wants to do it in his own time, maybe not at all. But if he doesn't do it soon the nightmares are going to continue and he won't be able to be king at all!"

Nasila stayed quiet. He knew why. She either didn't know what to say or wasn't sure how to respond. Maybe he spoke too strongly? He shook his head. _No, I didn't,_ he thought to himself. _What I just said is the truth. Anyone who knows my father knows that._

"I'm worried about him," the prince said after a long silence. "He's not losing his mind… at least, I don't think so." Emotion surged through his body. His front legs trembled. He opened his mouth, jaw quivering. "But if he doesn't seek Ibada's help or his counsel… I fear that –" He stopped, knowing the lioness beside him would figure it out.

And she did. She knew where he was going and it caused a deep ache in her heart. She loved the king like a second father. Whatever his nightmares she had the feeling that they must be so terrifying that he wasn't willing, or didn't want, to see the shaman.

"Time," Nasila found herself saying quietly. "He needs time."

In spite of the sudden bout of anger he felt hearing those words from her made him relax a little, brought a small bit of hope to his mind. But he also had to wonder what he would do if his father did take time but didn't act on it. Jibade wasn't a lion of force. The only thing he could do, when and if his father would go to the shaman, was hope. Hope and pray.

"I know," Jibade said with a dry mouth. He glanced toward her with a grateful smile. "Thanks."

Nasila smiled back. "I'm here for you, Jibade," she said, laying her head gently on his shoulder.

They pulled away and continued patrolling. All the while Jibade wondered if his two friends weren't right. Would his father go for help when he was ready? Or would he just let the strange nightmares continue until he'd sleep all day? Jibade sighed heavily. His ears went back and sorrow filled his body. He silently prayed.

_Oh, Lord Rahimu… what will I have to do to help my father? Knock him out and have Bukua or his son help me carry him to the shaman's home? Why won't he seek help? You know he needs it, right?_

_Be patient, my son. I am with him, whether he knows it or not… And I am with you._

The assurance of the quiet words in his soul was enough to let him breath out a sigh. All things worked together, Jibade knew. His mother had taught him that. He had to trust in the Lord. The way his mother did. The way Nasila and her family did.

Relief and peace washed over him. _I will, Lord. Thank you…_

For the rest of the day he continued to pray quietly for his father.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"There's only so much I can do for him, Ibada. The kids, too, not to mention the guardians… True, he's been doing well for almost a week but his nightmares just aren't going away. I'm surprised he's forced himself to meet with Hubiri and the animal representatives at all."

The queen of the Western Plains shrugged and lowered her head, silently chastising herself for being here. She knew it was a risk, coming to the shaman and talking to him about her husband and telling him things Dhoruba should be but wasn't. Maybe she was at the end of her own run. Maybe she was tired of seeing her mate suffer something no one could imagine. Maybe she was tired of hearing him say he would go, all the while knowing he would not. On the walk and run here she hoped she would not have to force him. She would have hated to. She loved Dhoruba, yes, and she was here because she loved him.

Ibada sat on his seat and stroked his chin, musing. He knew that the queen was telling him all of this in confidence. He was bound by kingdom and shamanic law not to speak of anything told in said confidence to anyone. Not that he would. It would violate the law. He had been down here in the grass, treating a young wounded giraffe that sprained a muscle nerve in her neck while eating. After he did that he approached the lioness queen, already knowing that something was bothering her. As a shaman he could tell.

For well over an hour he listened to her talk about her husband. He hadn't seen the king in months, maybe longer. And to learn of his problems from his mate was staggering. But a part of him had expected to see her. He'd been feeling little nudges in his soul all day. Now he could only sit in surprise and try to keep the shock out of his eyes and from his face. There was so much he could say, but only one suggestion he could give. Dare he?

"Kesha," he began, forming his next words carefully. "You say that his nightmares just happened all of a sudden?"

She nodded. "That's right."

"And he has no idea what they're about or what lands he's in or the voices he hears?"

Again, she nodded. "No."

"Hmm… How long have they been plaguing him?"

Kesha shook her head. "I'm not sure." She shrugged. "I don't think he even knows."

"This is strange indeed…" Ibada said softly. It was all he could say for now.

Her ears flickered as she turned away. "I shouldn't even be here," she whispered, her heart pounding.

"You came for a reason, Kesha," he said kindly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Did I?" She sighed heavily.

"Yes. You came for Dhoruba, your mate. You came because you care about him. You love him."

She shut her eyes and nodded. He was right. "Yes, I do." She licked her lips. Her mouth was dry.

Ibada turned to the gourd full of water beside him and moved it toward her. She drank deeply and when she raised her head he looked at her. "Is that better?"

"Yes, thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Now, you are here out of concern for your mate."

"That and I couldn't stand seeing him the way he's been without talking to someone." She shrugged again and tried to still the pounding of her heart. "I've asked him to come see you, but he won't. I know he won't."

He folded his hands. "I see. Well then if he won't come to me, perhaps I can come to him?"

Kesha bowed her head. She had considered that idea, but… She raised her head and said, "Ibada, believe me I have thought of it. And yet…" A pause prevented her from speaking further. She swallowed and continued. "With either scenario, Dhoruba…" Her throat constricted and she bowed her head. "I'm so worried for him, Ibada," she said, voice strained. She fought tears. "And I don't know how to help him."

The shaman mulled over the queen's words, looked at the grass and closed his eyes. He prayed silently. _What do you want me to do, Lord? How do I help without overstepping my boundaries?_

_Trust in me, Ibada. Don't lean on own your understanding, my servant. Trust in me._

The words ran through Ibada's mind and soul like a soft current. _Okay, God, I will…_ He breathed deeply, swallowed hard, and met the lioness's eyes. "Kesha…" He paused for a brief moment, slowly considering his words. _Trust in the Lord, Ibada,_ he told himself. He inhaled through his nose and continued. "The best advice I can give you is this: keep doing what you're doing. Even if he doesn't want to see me, don't force him. It won't do anyone any good, and deep down I think you know that."

She licked her lips. "Yes, I do, it's just… He's my mate, Ibada. We're part of each other."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes you are. You were molded for each other. He is not alone in what he suffers. The Lord is with him, and with you."

"I love Dhoruba."

He smiled gently. "I know. Whether he comes to me or not, I'll be waiting." He looked up at the sky. Kesha had been here for a long time and the sun was starting to set. "You'd better go home now, my lady."

She followed his gaze, nodding only once. "Yes." She looked back at him. "Thank you, Ibada. For… for listening…"

"It's my privilege, Kesha. I will pray for Dhoruba and for you."

"That's much appreciated as is your counsel. It's helped me." With that, she smiled and left, soon breaking into a run.

The light of the setting sun darkened her coat and she felt greatly at ease. Talking to Ibada had helped. She trusted him. The monkey had been a shaman for years, had served the royal family honorably and faithfully. He had presented her and her brother to the animals, had been there for her parents when they needed his counsel and wisdom and performed their memorial when they passed away. Ibada had done a lot for the royal family and Kesha had known one day she would need counsel from him too just as her parents. A part of her, in the midst of her running and heavy breathing, wished she could take her mate's nightmares from him and upon herself so that he could have a free mind.

_I'd do it without a moment's hesitation,_ she thought to herself. If anything she feared for Dhoruba. What if his nightmares were telling him something he had yet to figure out? The idea was possible but the question was: what. Was there any significance to his nightmares?

Questions and thoughts continued to run through her head even when she finally reached the pride. She saw her mate, son and daughter at the head of the large gathered assembly. When she approached the lions and lionesses bowed. She smiled at them and stepped near to Dhoruba, nuzzled him, smiled at Jibade and Mpenzi, and sat at her husband's right side. The king blessed the meal and everyone got their pieces of the zebra carcasses.

All through dinner Kesha watched her mate, studying him. When he finally saw her eyes on him he leaned close. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She started a little and looked at him, giving his face another quick study before she answered. His eyes showed that he was tired but not as badly today. "Yes, and you?" she asked in return.

He smiled. "Everything was well." Seeing she was about to ask about him he added, "And _I_ was well too."

She returned his smile and nuzzled him gently. "I'm glad," she whispered.

Dhoruba licked her cheek, purred softly, and they ate the rest of their meal in comforting silence. But he wouldn't allow Kesha to see him shake. He was warm outwardly, only because she was beside him. On the inside, however, he was cold. Cold and haunted by something he had yet to make sense of.

When the pride turned in, Dhoruba dreamed again. The scenery was the same: a blood soaked and air smell filled land. The ground was covered with the bones of dead animals and he heard the sound of someone speaking with a voice of mockery. He twitched and whimpered like a cub in his sleep.

But he wasn't alone in his nightmares.

Far away, in the cave of a jungle-like area, a red-maned lion sleeping beside an older lioness was trapped in a nightmare of his own. He was in a bone riddled land that smelled of blood, hearing the cries of his slain mother.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Name Translations: Hadhari 'caution', Nasila 'honey', Johari 'jewel'


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **All right guys and gals, here's a new chapter. Word of warning though: It is long, but I hope that doesn't prevent you from reading. There are some new developments in this and I was able to dive a little bit further into some of my characters heads.

**Chapter 4**

Akanni stayed as low as he could in the grass, eyeing the small herd of antelope with intent. His stomach growled softly, his mouth watered. They had no idea he was there, watching, waiting for them to move.

But they would soon. Soon, at the right time, he would rush out and take one of them as a meal for himself and Shabihi.

The young lion's ears went back and his gaze fell to the grass. He wished she was with him. But she couldn't be. Not after that last hunt nearly four days ago. He'd been with her for that at his own insistence and determination, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. Shabihi herself knew that once he got an idea in his head he would never let it go. And hunting with her was no different, no exception. She was, after all, getting old. Her muzzle was even starting to grey. While she could walk and run without tiring too quickly, Akanni knew she couldn't take any chances, especially while hunting. And he wasn't about to let anything happen to her. Not if he could help it.

Yet four days earlier…

Akanni shook his head and forced himself to focus. He had to hunt, if not for himself than for his adopted mother who was at the cave resting. As he stared at the antelope a chilling thought filled his mind. What if he returned with the catch and she – He growled and scolded himself. No. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't. Shabihi was the only person he had. She had kept him rooted, sane even. She'd kept him from thinking about revenge. But didn't she ever think about it? He often wondered.

His ears rose, his attention pulled back to the grazing herd. No movement on their part. They were taking their sweet time. Just as well. He glanced up at the sky. It was mid sun so he had all day. As much as he loved hunting he knew he would rather be back with Shabihi. He wondered how she was, if she was getting around their small sanctuary okay without him. He didn't want it, but how she got injured drifted through his mind anyway and he allowed himself to remember…

_They'd hunted late in the afternoon, watching a large herd of wildebeest. He'd come with her because he worried and needed something to do. "Besides patrolling," he'd said with a grunt._

_Shabihi, knowing how easy it was for him to get irritated, let him come. After a long of while of watching the herd graze, the lioness turned to him and gave a sharp nod of her head. At that, Akanni raised himself from the ground and roared as loud as he could. The sound, of course, alerted the herd. Upon seeing the two felines rush out of the grass, claws and teeth showing, the herbivores did the only thing they could – flee._

_As planned, the adopted mother and son broke apart, each going for one kill. Whoever could bring a wildebeest down was the catch they would feast upon. Unless by some miracle there was another, then they wouldn't have to eat for another day._

_Akanni ran as hard as he could, his heart pounding inside his chest but he was careful to avoid the back hooves. After a few moments of chasing from behind, the red-maned lion ran up to the side and clawed the animal's side with his foreleg. The wildebeest yelled with pain and for a moment Akanni noticed that, from the look in its eye, his prey wanted to turn around and rip him to shreds with its horns. It didn't. They both kept running and Akanni tried to tear his claws into the animal again._

"_Come on!" he thought to himself, panting heavily. "Another kill would be good for Shabihi and me!" Just then Akanni wanted to stop and let his intended target go. He had to see to Shabihi. But she was an experienced hunter, even if she was getting old. But wasn't she the only family he had left? Didn't he have to see to her safety, her welfare and protection?_

_He gritted his teeth and he carried on with his run. He had to get this animal. It would be good! Suddenly, without realizing it he found himself behind the wildebeest again. His mind, however, was so consumed with wanting to go back to Shabihi and see if she was alright, that he narrowly missed a back hoof aiming for his face. He dodged just in time and ran up the beast's right side, clawing. Then with a burst of strength he jumped and landed on the animal's back, teeth aiming for its neck._

_The beast aware of the lion on top of it, threw its head back, horns near hitting Akanni who fell off hard, landing on his side, gasping for breath. He shut his eyes, groaned and slowly got up, watching his prey escape. He sighed heavily and shook the dirt and grass from his body. He shook his mane and felt his heart drop._

"_Shabihi," he muttered fearfully and roared. His ears perked up in hopes she would hear. But there was no response. Sniffing the air he ran, following her scent. He wasn't sure how long he ran and he didn't care. His heart pounded wildly. Thoughts of fear and worry ran rampant through his mind. His silent prayers were the same. "Shabihi!" he called out. "Mother, can you hear me!"_

_Despite his concern, which seemed to grow with each passing moment, he allowed her scent to guide him. Then he smelled something – Blood. His throat constricted, his legs were numb but he pressed on. After walking several feet, his paws hurting, he saw. Shabihi was lying on her side; her right foreleg was covered in blood._

"_Shabihi," he asked, his voice sounding like that of a frightened cub's. Much it had the day his real mother had been killed. He shook his head, willing that memory away before it had a chance to form. "Mother," he tried again. Oh, Lord Rahimu, please don't let it be now._

_Relief flooded him when she raised her head and stared at him._

"_I'm all right, Akanni," she said, her voice soft. She groaned and tried to get up. Akanni placed his head at her side, allowing her to lean on him. "Thank you, my son," she said and gently licked his cheek. She noticed that his eyes were on her blood soaked shoulder. "Yes, he got me with a horn. It hurts badly, but I'll be fine in a day or two."_

_He forced himself to speak. "Let's eat here. I won't have you walking back to the cave, at least not on your own. I want you, instead, after we've eaten, to lean on me." He tried a smile. "I'm strong enough."_

_She pawed his face. "I know." They looked down at the fallen herbivore. "I managed to kill him before we both fell."_

_He nodded and remained silent as she blessed the meal. Yeah, the meal that would have killed her, he thought almost darkly. But it didn't. I still have her. We still have each other._

_They ate in silence, both knowing they couldn't take what was left. Akanni didn't care. Shabihi, his adopted mother, was more important. Maybe wandering carnivores could have the leftovers. Afterward Akanni lead them home with Shabihi leaning on his shoulder._

_In the cave, he licked her wound as clean as he could._

_Over the next few days he hunted for them. Taking care of her was his duty. Just as it had been her duty to care for him when he was a cub…_

The red maned lion shook his head with a sharp jerk and forced himself back to the present, to the herd of antelope. The group still had no idea that he was only several feet away, watching their every move. They had no idea that he was waiting in anticipation and slight impatience for them to leave the area so he could rush out, bring one of them down and take it back to the shelter, to his adopted mother.

He sighed heavily and licked a paw, trying to cover his sudden will to just rush out, give them a good scare, and chase them. _Come on! How long does it take for you guys to finish grazing? I don't have all day, let alone all night!_

As much as he loved hunting, he didn't, and probably never would understand how lionesses did it whether they were in a team or not. _How do you have such patience, Mother?_

Akanni settled himself back in the grass, forced himself to relax. He prayed for more patience. But he also prayed for Shabihi and her health. Just thinking about the wound on her shoulder made him cringe. He'd done the best he could licking the blood off but the wildebeest's horns had scraped the flesh so badly he could almost see the bone. And there were no shamans in the area. Akanni lowered his head and shut his eyes. As much as he hoped her wound wouldn't get infected he had a terrible feeling, deep down, that it would.

Tears welled up. "Lord Rahimu, please… if you must take her…" He couldn't finish. He heard a sound in the distance and slowly raised himself up just enough to see. He smiled satisfactorily.

The wildebeest were moving.

Akanni licked his lips. It was time to hunt.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba knew something was wrong. He wasn't surprised to find himself used to the nightmares and fatigue. He was even used to seeing the worried look on Kesha's face every time they saw each other.

What he was not used to, however, the one thing that had caused him to be surprised as of late was the look he started getting from his son, Jibade. He was unnerved by it. Was Jibade seeing the same thing Kesha was? Would he tell him to seek help? The very thought sent shivers up his spine, made his legs tremble. If Jibade came up to him and told him he was worried Dhoruba had the feeling he would erupt in anger.

He was tired of others worrying about him! He was tired of having these crazy nightmares that, more often than not, left him unable to sleep. It was the nightmares and the strange scenes in them, the voices and cries that kept him from staying in the chambers with his mate and grown children. He was tired of it all. Just outright tired!

For the last several days, in the mornings after watching the sunrises, Kesha sometimes joining him, he often considered the idea of actually going to Ibada. Kesha herself had suggested he do so in soft quiet tones. There was a problem – he knew she was right. But as much as his fur bristled at her suggestion he never lashed out. He could never lash out at her. Not without hurting her feelings and, in turn, hurting his. She only said such a thing because she loved him. Wouldn't he do the same for her if she were in his situation? Of course he would! His beloved Kesha had a pure heart, something she gained from her late father, no doubt.

But could he do it? Could he really go to the shaman and talk? Or would he go and just stay silent, therefore wasting the monkey's time? Even if he could talk about it he was afraid. Afraid that he would have the nightmares while awake, which hadn't happened yet thank God. Either that or the shaman would put him under some kind of… Well he wasn't sure what the monkey would do and he didn't want to try… yet. He was certain of that… wasn't he?

The only reason Kesha brought it up with him now and again was more than her worry for him. It was love, simply that.

So what did he have to lose, if anything, other than his sanity, something which he might very well be? He'd pondered on going to see Ibada over the last few days and whenever he saw Kesha he wondered if she hadn't been to see him. If so how could he confront her? Should he? Wasn't talking about him to the spiritual leader and healer of the Western Plains going behind his back? He knew it was, but he couldn't tell her not to.

She had a right to see Ibada, even if it was to talk about him. She was the queen. Who was he to tell her what she should or shouldn't do, and in the kingdom she was born and raised in? To try would be wrong. His nightmares were scaring her, his lack of sleep worrying her. She had every reason and _right_! He was worrying and scaring himself and he was refusing help of all things!

Sitting on the stone ledge, the sun's light filling the lands and warming his body, he knew his thinking was correct. Maybe, just maybe, Ibada could help him. Dhoruba's ears tipped back, his tail tapped the ground softly. He breathed in the air and looked at the sky, admiring its color and the few clouds that decorated it. He smiled a little, knowing it was going to be a good day… at least for some. He wasn't sure about himself.

In that moment he remembered he was going to meet Hubiri at the usual spot, only this time he'd told the royal advisor at mid-sun. It was nearing that time. He looked down at the ground, his paws, and let out a hard breath. He was tired, so tired he was amazed he'd been able to get up and come out here. He didn't want to meet with the representatives today. He only wanted to sleep.

_Do I really? Haven't I done that enough? Is Kesha right? Should I go to Ibada sooner and not later?_ He furrowed his brow, the idea growing with each passing moment and beat of his heart. Shouldn't he take his mate's advice?

_Perhaps… it is time,_ he thought to himself.

Movement beside him caused an ear to flicker, but he didn't turn his head. He knew it was her. Her scent, her quietness… He couldn't help but smile idly.

"Dhoruba," said the queen, nuzzling his mane and licking his cheek.

He returned her gestures and stared at her. She was beautiful and possessed the same nature of her father Amri. It was another reason he'd been drawn to her. It was something he wished day in and day out to have.

"Hey there," he said lovingly. "Sleep well?" he asked, knowing she would ask the same of him.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes." Then her face fell, her eyes taking on a knowing look. "You didn't because of the nightmares."

A deep sigh filled his whole body. "Yes, as always." Before she could speak again he quickly added, "Kesha, I was thinking." He paused for a brief moment and then continued. "I'm going to see Ibada today." He looked at her. Relief and hope shined in her eyes. "And no it wasn't just a spur of the moment." He chuckled at that.

Kesha smiled, nudged him and laid her head on his shoulder, breathing a sigh of peace. "I'm so glad to hear you say that," she said softly. "I've been hoping and praying you would. What about Hubiri?"

"Well, actually, I was wondering that if you don't have to hunt maybe…" He wasn't tongue-tied, just teasing. He knew her well enough to know that she wanted to help and would. She always did.

"I'd be glad to. You know that."

He put his head near hers, inhaling her sweet scent, savoring the feel of her close. "Don't I. Always." He licked her cheek. "I'm sorry, Kesha. I shouldn't have put this off for so long. I guess…" Now he was tongue-tied.

She understood what he meant. "Don't worry, Dhoruba. You're going to see him now and that's what matters."

He rose and headed towards the ramp not surprised in the least to hear Kesha behind him. In the grass they walked side-by-side, their coats rubbing against one another as they walked to the waterhole. The same waterhole Dhoruba told Hubiri to meet him at. Only now he would be meeting the queen.

After taking a drink and a moment to admire their lands, he turned to Kesha. "You sure you want to do this?" He had to ask. He didn't want to feel like he was using her. He knew he wasn't but at other times…

She drew close to him, their noses touching. Her smile and words could make his heart fill. "Of course I'm sure. As I've said many times in the past, we're a team. Go see Ibada. I'll take care of the representatives, should they need it."

"Have Jibade go with you. That is, if he comes before Hubiri. I worry that he's spending more time patrolling than learning how to take care of a kingdom. He's good at both, don't get me wrong. But he is our heir."

She licked his muzzle. "I'll take care of everything. You take care of yourself, my lord." She smirked playfully.

He laughed softly and licked her in return. "Yes, my lady." He turned and left, soon breaking into a run.

Kesha watched him go, bowed her head and prayed.

_Rahimu, guide my mate and help Ibada uncover the mystery surrounding Dhoruba's nightmares._

It was the only thing she could think of. She hoped it was enough.

_Lord, please, let it be enough…_

Jibade came a few minutes later, Hubiri soon after.

Led by the royal advisor, the queen and prince went to see to the problems of the animals.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba decided to make his trek to the shaman's tree as slow as he could. He wasn't sure if he could run. He needed the walk. But more than that, he wanted to get his thoughts in order. He wanted to concentrate on what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. He knew it wouldn't be easy; none of this had been easy. The nightmares… He shuddered and shook his head, mildly frustrated with himself. He hoped not to waste the shaman's time… He was already wasting his own, at least he thought so.

He looked around. Some animals were grazing. He wished he was among them, doing the same. He wished he wasn't having these strange nightmares. He wished he could make sense of them, but wasn't that the reason he was going to Ibada? So that he, using his shaman knowledge or whatever, could help him make sense of everything? That is, when he told him everything.

But what was everything? That he started having these nightmares out of the blue? That he started dreaming of a land that smelled of and was stained in blood? That he could hear the cries of others being slaughtered? That whenever he found himself in such strange lands he heard a dark, mocking voice? Yeah, talking about that would go over real well!

Dhoruba sighed hard and growled softly. He wasn't going to waste this walk on wondering how he was going to talk to the shaman. If anything he was afraid to relive his nightmares in the day time.

_**What, Dhoruba, are you afraid to face the truth?**_

The dark voice returned and he shook with fear. _Truth, what truth? What do these strange dreams have to do with me? I don't even recognize the land. Am I supposed to?_

_**Yes you should!**_

"Leave me alone," he said a soft angry voice. His front claws unsheathed and he scratched the grass.

The taunting voice continued. _**My, my, my, and after all this time you're going to the shaman? What makes you think he can help you?**_

Dhoruba stopped mid-walk and shut his eyes. But he couldn't close his ears against the voice. _He can! He has the ear of heaven, the ear of the Lord. He'll listen, I know he will!_

"_Seeking help from others is foolishness! Don't ever go to someone else with your problems…"_

His throat constricted, his heart stopped for a long moment. He hadn't heard those words, even on the edges of his mind, in a long time, years even, and now… His father… the words had been his father's. Though he'd left his homeland of his own free will and he'd forced himself to suppress all memory of his father, including his cruel harsh words and his outlook on life, which was nothing at all. His father was a strong and domineering type of lion, wanting things to go his way and wanted everyone to follow him because he had the power to make their lives miserable otherwise.

He was the heir to the throne and felt the large weight fall upon him at an early age. He'd tried to balance it and tried so hard not to listen to his father. He hated the way his father treated the lionesses, hated the way he ran the kingdom. Deeply frustrated and hurt that his father wanted Dhoruba to follow in his steps he left, all the while knowing he was sentencing his mother and pride to more agony or worse. Dhoruba knew that leaving was cowardly and often, at times, he thought about his family.

_**Do you really? Ha! You don't even remember why you left! You're a fraudulent king, father, and husband! Tell them the truth you coward! That's what you are! A foolish, pitiful coward! You have absolutely no business ruling these righteous lands. You're not righteous in the least.**_

Dhoruba gritted his teeth. The voice of mockery had a point. He wasn't righteous; his father had never taught him to be. He had never taught him anything but greed and the want for power, to have a life threatening lust for it.

But after leaving and wandering, almost on the verge of death, he'd found the Western Plains and was taken in by a lion Dhoruba had never before knew could exist. King Amri was almost the embodiment of righteousness. But he was more than that. He was a lion of honor, of love. He cared for others. Even a stranger, a lion for all Amri knew, could have been a threat to his kingdom. But Dhoruba had been in too bad a shape to even think about killing a king and taking a kingdom, especially if the kingdom had guardians.

That was something his father, if he were a rogue, would have done. Dhoruba knew that and it had always frightened him.

Once he was healed and eating, a part of him had wanted to move on, to leave and not take up anymore of King Amri's time or anyone else's. But something had rooted him to these lands. It had been more than just wanting to know about the king and his family. It had been more than Princess Kesha watching over him while he regained his strength and the king's great kindness to let him stay until he figured out what he wanted to do.

When he first set paw in the Plains something had surged through him. A sense of hope and new life, but it was as though he was being urged and told that he could finally rest. That he would be safe and not harmed like he was out in the world. He had been drawn here in a way he couldn't explain. Could he explain it to Ibada when he arrived? He'd known that hope and love lived in these lands, more than in his own home. But he'd also known that righteousness lived too. It lived in King Amri, his wife and their children, even the guardians and their respective families.

He'd been hungry and eager to learn how the way these lions and lionesses lived. He'd wanted to live as they did, and through King Amri's influence and teaching Dhoruba was able to embrace the lifestyle. He was able to love Kesha and become part of her life in a way his father would have trampled on. He was the father he always wanted to be… Loving his children and teaching them the wisdom of Amri.

From the moment he met Amri Dhoruba knew that his father and the ruler of the Western Plains were completely different. In fact, now that he thought about it, he was glad that he didn't allow himself to fall victim to his father's ways. If he had –

_I wouldn't be where I am now… or the lion that I am._

He had to smile a little. The way his late father-in-law had seen the world and the way he acted was not natural. He wasn't sure what to call it. All he knew was that it was something else, something unseen. Perhaps his talk of God, or Rahimu as Amri and his pride called the Lord, had something to do with it. Or maybe that _was_ it. They saw the Creator as the source of all things good. They praised him when things were well and tough. How, Dhoruba couldn't fathom, but his own family wasn't like Amri's. His old pride lived in fear on a daily basis and Dhoruba was the only one who managed to escape. He had fled and found hope and freedom in the Western Plains. Just because his father didn't believe in the Creator and had never taught Dhoruba…

"But you did, Amri," he said quietly. "You taught me, although I don't believe as strongly as you did, as Kesha does. Or as our children do…" He felt his eyes tear up and he choked out his next words. "Oh God, I wish I had the faith of my wife, my son and daughter… and that of my guardians and their children. How can I have what they have?"

_**Admit your past, and that's all. If you do that then maybe your family's precious God will…**_

His ears closed, his heart pounded.

_God, please help me!_

With that he broke into a run and didn't stop until he reached the base of the shaman's familiar tree. True, he hadn't been here in a long time but he knew it well. He took a deep breath, waited until his heart calmed. He wanted to call out but the sound of a cleared throat caught his attention. He looked up to see the shaman's head poking out of his home.

"I had a feeling you would come, your majesty." With that Ibada slid down a vine and stood before him in the grass, hands behind his back.

Dhoruba bowed his head, his mane falling into his eyes and the sides of his face. "And how did you know that?" he asked lowly.

Ibada smiled. "I am a shaman, sire. It's my job. Well, one of them," he added sheepishly.

"Okay. Then do you know _why_ I'm here?" Dhoruba tried to keep the edge out of his voice.

With a question like that Ibada knew he would have to be careful. He did not want to betray the confidence Queen Kesha had extended to him days earlier. Remembering the king's question he shook his head and tried to give a small smile.

"No, I don't. But I do know that you wouldn't have come if you didn't need my help." He raised an eyebrow. "Am I right?"

Dhoruba sent him a sharp gaze, which fell just as quickly. He nodded, already feeling tired. "Yes," he said with a strained voice. "I don't know what's going on with me. It… It's strange. It's been happening for days, maybe weeks."

Ibada sat down in the grass, his legs crossed. "Tell me, Dhoruba," he said, pronouncing the king's name with respect.

So he did. While explaining he tried to still the tremors that filled his body but couldn't. Through nearly every sentence he shook. Either the shaman didn't seem to notice or Ibada was waiting until he was finished. Truth was he didn't care. He was only shaking because in his mind he was reliving every nightmare he'd had. In his mind he was hearing the cries of agony, the violent roars. And he was hearing the dark, mocking voice.

The red monkey nodded gently and hoped the king didn't notice. But he was listening. He had to. Every word Dhoruba spoke seemed to resonate in his head. The words pounded in his ears, made his heart beat increase. With every word he found himself shivering. He stared at Dhoruba, who barely made eye contact with him. Was he afraid to look at him? Ibada forced himself to focus on what the lion was saying.

"… And after I hear the voices I call out, asking for anyone and hearing nothing. The smell of blood is so strong I feel like gagging. Half the time I do. I call out for Kesha, begging her to hear me in this realm. Sometimes I scream at the top of my voice for her to wake me up."

Ibada nodded again, slowly. "So, what _does_ wake you?"

Did he remember? Every time was always so… He had to tell. The possibility of the matter playing in his mind was high, but the shaman had to know. "I continue to walk and call out. I expect to see anyone alive but there's nothing. After a while, I –" He stopped and turned away.

Ibada peered at him, rubbing his hands together. "What is it, Dhoruba?" he asked gently.

His throat stuck and he swallowed. "I see a large form hovering over another, a smaller one. I-it looks like a lion. Moving closer, I see that it is and he…" His emotions rose, his chest ached. "He's killing a lioness by tearing out her throat. He has scars on his body, but it's hard to tell how many because of the blood that covers his fur. I'm standing behind him, frightened and horrified at the same time, naturally."

But was it natural? What would possess a lion to kill a lioness? Those cries in his head told him nightly that the lion had killed before, and the violent roars told Dhoruba the lion liked it, maybe craved it. But… still… what could bring about such a disgusting idea, or desire? He shook himself and continued. "I feel it, Ibada. I feel the lioness's fear, her want to hold on and fight back. But I also feel what goes through the lion. I feel his pleasure and disgust. I even feel his want to drink the lioness's blood, savor the taste of it."

He looked at the shaman and wondered if Ibada could see the look in his eyes. What were they saying? Suddenly, he didn't want to know, if Ibada would tell him. He hoped not.

Ibada could only stay silent. Stay silent and let his mind do the talking. _Lord, what is wrong with my earthly king? Why does he suffer such strange dreams?_ He slowly rose and walked around the lion, the ruler now lying in the grass, forepaws outstretched. He eyed Dhoruba up and down, noticing the scars he'd gotten in fights with a few rogues in his time of wandering had faded over the years. Oh they were there sure, but his fur covered them. But he had to wonder if there wasn't more to those scars.

He didn't know that much about Dhoruba's past. Not many did. In fact, so few, except for the late King Amri, and of course, his daughter, Dhoruba's mate, Queen Kesha. But that was all, the only ones Dhoruba had actually let in. And Ibada knew better than to pry into something that was probably hard for Dhoruba to talk about. The only reason he'd told Amri and Kesha was because they both, with their ever-trusting faith in the Lord Rahimu, had touched something in him. Something that had been dried, barren and scarred, but from what Ibada could only guess.

"Can you help me in some way, Ibada?" Dhoruba wasn't sure but he could hear the pleading in his voice. A desperate pleading… "I-I need help. I need _your_ help! You are a shaman. Is there any way?"

Ibada ran his hands together and closed his eyes.

Dhoruba waited, knowing that the shaman was thinking, maybe praying. It didn't matter to him. If the shaman needed to think on his question, and clearly he did, then he would give it to him. He owed him that much.

They'd sat here for who knew how long, Ibada listening to him talk about something the queen had only told him in snippets and confidence several days ago. He would not mention her. He would not break the shaman code, if it was a code at all. But he had made a promise not to say anything to Dhoruba about the queen's visit when he came to him. Now that day had finally come. He had listened to the ruler's dreams in full, and the question was asked: could he help him?

Ibada would have to phrase his answer carefully. He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, thoughts filling his mind. The king's question, however, echoed. _Can you help me?_

The dark brown red monkey felt himself shake. He hoped the king didn't notice, and tried to speak. "I…" He had to step it up a notch. The last thing he wanted, and needed now that he heard all of this, was to hear an impatient voice from Dhoruba. "Sire, I shall need to… pray and meditate on this." He wasn't going to say please. He wasn't going to ask permission. He had to commune with the Lord.

In a way Dhoruba expected such a thing to come from the shaman's mouth. All he had to do was answer, or rather, say okay. Ibada had listened to him for a long time.

He could only nod. How could he not allow Ibada this? He couldn't allow him not to. "Yes, Ibada," Dhoruba said, speaking slowly. He wanted to make sure his words sounded certain. "Yes, you can take some time." He thought that was it. But it wasn't. "Just," he added, now uncertain of his words. He had to push on. "Please," he tried again. "Don't take too long? I-I don't know how much of these nightmares I can take."

"I won't, sire, you have my word. Can you come back if not tomorrow then the next day?"

Dhoruba swallowed hard and considered quickly. "Yes, yes I think so. However, I should tell you that it's entirely possible that I'll bring Kesha with me. Not that I don't trust you, I wouldn't be here if I didn't. She is my mate."

Ibada held up a hand and nodded. "I understand what you're saying, sire. Her majesty can be with us when you return." However he would help Dhoruba he hoped to talk to the queen away from the lion's ears. Until then he do what he'd told the king. He would meditate and pray. He watched now as Dhoruba rose and shook his body.

The ruler of the Plains ran his tongue over his lips. "Thank you for listening Ibada. I appreciate it."

The shaman also rose brushing the grass blades from his own body. He smiled gently. "You're welcome, sire. I'm always here, whenever you or any one of your pride need me."

"Consider my matter carefully. Take care." Dhoruba looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set. He'd been here for over half the day. He had arrived at mid-sun hadn't he? Yes. He gave the shaman another smile and left, his head low, but his steps were more assured now that he knew Ibada wanted and was willing to help him figure this out.

Ibada watched him go and departed back up into his tree. Sitting beside his grass bed he took up a small fruit and started eating. He thought hard, his mind reeling with ideas and questions. He chewed and swallowed. When he ate the last bite he folded his hands and bowed his head.

"God… what ails King Dhoruba? How can I help him? _How_ do I help him?" He shut his eyes and waited.

_Truth, Ibada… Truth will set you free…_

His eyes snapped open, his heart pounded. What did truth have to do with the king dreaming of a slaughtered land?

_I don't understand, Lord._

_All will be revealed in time, my servant._

That wasn't the hopeful response he was looking for. How could he help Dhoruba?

_The past hurts, but learning from it is how healing can come._

The past… Ibada ran his forefinger and thumb along his chin, thinking, musing. He found himself wondering. In the several years he'd been here Dhoruba never told him where he'd come from. Of course, he'd never asked. Would he have to?

_**Of course you should ask him, fool! He's hiding something. You'd know that if you tap into that shamanism stuff your god has gifted you with!**_

The voice… He hadn't heard it in years. Not when he first started his shaman training with his master of the same species. Back then he had been young and inexperienced, telling himself that he had no business in such a profession. He'd often wondered why God had chosen him or how his master had such patience that he never seemed to show any anger unless he was interrupted when he prayed or meditated. Ibada had never done that, had never experienced it himself. Instead he would feel small urges in his spirit that someone was in need of his help while he meditated and prayed.

Now that he'd heard the dark voice he trembled with fear. "God," he said in a whisper. "God!" he said again, a little louder. He waited. No dark voice. It had lost its power under him calling on the name of the One who was good. Always good, always faithful and loving…

Ibada sighed deeply, stood up, and walked to his grass bed. Quickly settled and lying on his back, he stared up at the sky through the branches and leaves on the tree. He let out another sigh and put one arm behind his head. He was tired, more tired than on any other day.

In time his eyes closed, his breathing deepened. But he twitched, his legs kicked. He began dreaming and what he saw caused him to jerk and shiver.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Once Dhoruba reached the pride's cave, the stars were appearing small light silver dots in a sunset sinking sky. He approached the caverns slowly, tired from his run. Upon leaving the shaman's tree, he had stopped at a waterhole to drink and rest. Not long after he resumed his run home. He looked around. Everything was peaceful, the night weather nice and cool. He took a breath of air and inhaled it through his nose when a strange scent caught him off guard.

His mouth watered, his stomach growled. He hadn't eaten anything all day and knew he couldn't go to sleep without something. But where was the scent coming from?

"I was hoping you'd come home sooner or later," said a voice from above, on the stone ledge.

He looked up and could just see his mate. He watched as she walked down the stone, then the ramp and stepped lightly in the grass with something in her mouth. He sniffed the air again and couldn't help but smile.

"Kesha," he said warmly.

She dropped the meat in the grass. "Dhoruba," she replied with the same warmth.

It filled his soul. "That wouldn't be for me, would it?" he asked slyly.

"Yes, it would. It's an antelope leg from one of the carcasses the hunting party caught." She shrugged a little. "Like before, I wasn't sure if you'd be hungry for a full one."

He shook his head and came up to her, nuzzling her face with his own. "Well, you were right. A leg will do just fine. Thank you."

Kesha licked his cheek. "You're welcome."

He pulled away. "I went to see Ibada, but I'd prefer to talk about it tomorrow?" He didn't mean for it to sound like a question.

She nodded. "That's alright."

He shuffled a paw nervously. "Kesha," he started. "I… Let's stay away from the caves."

She near tilted her head, but understood. _Maybe he thinks a night away will cease the nightmares a little. No matter. I just want him to sleep peacefully._ Kesha nodded her head in silent agreement.

"But first, I'll eat." He picked up the meat at her paws and they walked several feet away, not wanting to disturb the sleeping pride in the caves.

While Dhoruba ate the antelope leg, Kesha informed him of her and Jibade's time with Hubiri. "There weren't many problems today and Hubiri understood why you were absent."

Dhoruba chewed another piece. "Did he ask?"

Kesha shook her head. "I just told him you weren't feeling well and decided to take the day off."

He nodded and continued eating until there was nothing left but bones. Sighing satisfactorily Dhoruba turned to his mate, nuzzling her. She returned his affection with gladness and together they rose and walked, tails entwined, sides touching. Dhoruba gently licked the top of Kesha's head, a gesture she returned by slipping her head under his chin. The king purred, his mate purred back.

The air around them turned from cool to warm and Dhoruba hoped that one night with his wife from the caves would help him sleep easier.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Akanni stood outside their shelter, watching the night sky and the stars that filled it. He let out a long drawn out sigh and turned his head back to the cave's entrance, his face taking on a sad and frightened look. While his catch earlier in the day had been good, his worst fears upon returning were confirmed.

Because of the pain in her shoulder, the weakness in her body from age and the wound, Shabihi was unable to eat.

"You eat, my son," she had said, wincing as more pain flashed through her body. She even tried licking the wound but to no avail. Without help she knew what would happen.

In a strange sort of way Shabihi told herself that she couldn't imagine any other way to die than by getting hurt on a hunt. A hunt to provide meat for her adopted son who was everything to her, even though she didn't birth him or nurse him. She had never had the honor of having cubs of her own. The very late king Abasi, despite his many tries… No, she wouldn't let him anywhere near her. She would rather suffer through her seasons and the misery that accompanied them than allow the ruler of her old home to…

She snapped out of such thinking and looked on Akanni again, smiling a little upon seeing his look. "Really, Akanni, take it. You brought it down and home. It's your catch, but just in case I do get hungry save me some. Until then don't worry." She gave him a stern but gentle look to add to her words.

He had nodded. "I promise."

But all through the day, as much as she wanted to eat she simply couldn't. It hurt too much to move. Akanni ate some of his catch now and again, being mindful not to consume too much. He wanted to save some for her just in case. Not because she asked him to. There was always the possibility she'd be able to eat. Unfortunately, that possibility, as much as he hoped for it, never came and that's why he was out here looking at the stars and occasionally pacing the ground.

The thought had entered his mind a few days before, when he first noticed her wound was getting bad. With no shamans around to help of course it would get bad. And bad meant one other thing. Without treatment his adopted mother would die. Akanni sighed and tried to control his emotions. He bowed his head, his mane falling into his face. She couldn't die. Not yet! He wasn't sure what he'd do without her… wasn't sure if he could survive without her.

A cool air stirred around him, making him shiver a little. But he was also shiver on the inside, shaking was more like it. Would he have to prepare himself for Shabihi's death? Emotions surged through him, the hot and angry kind. With a burst of strength he snapped his head up to the skies, his eyes flashing.

"No! You can't take her from me!" he yelled, his chest heaving. "Do you hear me, Lord Rahimu? Am I getting through to you?" Tears stung and filled his eyes. He blinked. "You cannot take away the only person I have left in my life! That monster, that prince of our old pride… Do you remember him? He slaughtered my blood mother and Shabihi's sister in cold blood, along with our friends! He left their bodies to rot and be eaten by scavengers! He even killed his own parents. And because Shabihi saved my life, protected me, loved me and taught me how to hunt and fight she must die? All because she was doing the one thing she loved the most? Why, God… why…?"

His heart pounded and he felt exhaustion fall over him. He knew that the Creator couldn't verbally answer his question. He was left without an answer and it angered him further. How much longer would Shabihi live? How much longer could she live since she received that injury not more than four days ago? He just didn't want her to leave him alone. It was paining him to his very soul. "S-she can't go," he said in a strained whisper.

With one more desperate look to the heavens and with a heavy heart, his legs numb, he stalked back into the cave and lay down close to Shabihi, who was lying on her left side, her wounded shoulder facing upward covered with flowers he had found. They were sweet-smelling thankfully, and Shabihi liked them.

He moved close to her and spoke softly. "Mother… please, pull through…" The moment the words left his mouth he suddenly felt selfish for saying them. But they were the only ones of their old pride left, except for the lion who had ruined their lives.

Akanni shook his head. No use thinking about that. Not when the lioness he loved like a second mother may very well be dying. "Pull through for my sake… please…" A tear leaked out of his eye and landed on her furred cheek. He nuzzled her gently and settled back to his spot, succumbing to a weary sleep.

But he dreamed again. Only instead of the monstrous prince killing his blood mother right in front of him, it was Shabihi underneath the murderous prince's paws and her eyes were terrified. In his dream he was a cub. And he was once again powerless to prevent the death of another loved one.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Okay, guys and gals, I am so sorry for the delay on this chapter, but I had a hard time with this one. As you can see it's long, but I didn't want to split it. That and being sick for a week didn't help, but I'm well and with a new chapter for your entertainment, so enjoy.

**Chapter 5**

As the angel of death it was his solemn duty to take the souls of lions and lionesses who died to the place where his Master, their Master and Creator, would judge them for their works and for their belief in Him. Although he was among many leonine angels of death, Nduli humbled himself in his duties, the same for his spiritual brethren, lion or other type of animal as well.

Here in the quiet Nduli made a silent confession. There were times when he hated his position as an angel of death. The times he really hated his job was when he came after cubs who were taken too early from their parents either by accident or naturally. When innocent lions or lionesses were struck down for one reason or another it saddened him, but none more than when it was cubs that died. Taking stillborns was the worst. Cubs were the true innocents, not having the chance to experience the pains and pleasures of life or the blessings of Rahimu when they followed Him with their whole heart and mind.

Nduli often wondered why Rahimu didn't make him as one of His flesh bound people, why He didn't let him experience life's pleasures and pain. He would have loved to have ruled a kingdom, been married to a wonderful queen and teach his children about life and Rahimu. He would have wanted to experience just what it meant to be a lion. But over time, time with no end that is, Nduli was quick to realize he had been made the way he was by Rahimu for a reason.

And, though he hated his job where little innocents were concerned, he knew things happened for a reason and that Rahimu, whether His creation could see it or not, knew what He was doing. "There is a time for everything," his Lord told him, "a time for every purpose, both the good and the bad." Those words from the mouth of the One, the way they were spoken so gently when he was distressed were enough to calm him and keep him on his duty and path.

Now he was standing at the entrance to a cave in the predawn light. The sun had yet to rise. He looked up at the sky. It was going to be clear but with a few clouds scattered about. He had to smile. A few clouds or not today was going to be good, at least for some. He was here because today was not going to be good for some.

His ears went forward as did his gaze. Sadness gripped him. He only felt it when he was down here, when he had to do his job. But the task he had now was assigned to him by Lord Rahimu as were all his tasks. He couldn't very well say no. When he was in heaven there was no need for him to feel any kind of sadness it good or bad. There was nothing but happiness up there, a great peace that flowed through his body and the bodies of those up there with him. Even his fellow angels of death felt it. It was love, a pleasure that swept through all of them, making them feel giddy.

He often wished to talk to the loved ones of those he took to the other side but couldn't. It was against the rules. It was not for those left behind to know. They would see it for themselves when he or another leonine angel of death came. He knew the same was true for other angels of death of a different species.

Nduli breathed a heavy sigh and felt numbness in his front legs. It always happened when he showed up to take a dying lion or lioness. In the cave in front of him someone was dying and dying slowly. He wanted to walk into the cave but hesitated, unsure why. It wasn't like the living could see him, he was completely invisible. Only those he was after could see him. Nduli couldn't help but brace himself and feel a little worried at what or who he was going to see.

"There's no need to be nervous or worried, Nduli. I sent you here for a reason."

The dark red maned lion didn't have to turn to see the owner of the voice. It resonated throughout his body and made him feel at ease. He breathed out slowly, felt his body relax and bowed his head in respect. He didn't want to ask, but the question came anyway. "Why?"

"Because I know you can handle it."

Nduli wasn't sure about that. He shook his head. "I don't know if I can go in. If it is who I think it is."

Rahimu stared at the entrance. "Go in, Nduli," he said firmly but gently.

He had no choice but to obey. He walked forward and stepped into the dark cave. A horrible smell filled the air. If he were a flesh and blood being he would probably gag. He walked forward and allowed the smell to lead him. Finally he stopped and saw the source of the smell. His heart sank at the sight.

Here before him was a lioness and not far from her was a lion. He couldn't guess if he was her mate. It was really no business of his. He was just here to bring them to the One who gave them life. He looked on the lioness and noticed something ghastly. He studied her. There was a terrible wound on her right shoulder. He could just make out muscle and… He shut his eyes for a small moment and opened them again. He had a sense within him that she was the reason Rahimu sent him. He looked up at the lion that was sleeping not far from her. He looked young, and from what he could see had a red mane and light almost gold tan color to him. If he wasn't her mate was he her son? He was perplexed by this pair, confused but he shrugged it off.

"Is it your time, dear lioness?" he asked softly. He could have shouted the words and still they would not hear him. When they opened their eyes to awaken they wouldn't even see him or smell his scent.

He stared at the lioness, seeing the grey streaks in her fur. She was old, no doubt, and this wound on her shoulder, he guessed, was probably from a hunt. The wound was horribly infected. It would kill her. She was going to die. And that's why he was here. He was here to wait until she took her last breath and then he would take her to escort her to the other side.

He swallowed and spoke the only words that came to his mind. "Do not worry. You will be with Rahimu soon." His voice was only a whisper in the dark and he wondered if, somehow, the female laying on the ground could hear it. He hoped so. He watched her shake, watched her twitched. Her body was suffering from the wound's infection. Again his heart sank and he wished he could end her suffering and take her to the other side now. No lioness deserved this. No animal, period, deserved this. He sighed deeply and left the cave, returning to the Lord's side.

"Well?" Rahimu asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm supposed to escort the lioness when she dies and I'm supposed to stay here until she does."

Rahimu nodded. "Tell me, Nduli, does she look familiar?"

The angel of death turned his head to his Master. He thought for a moment, searched his mind, and shook his head. "No. Is she supposed to?"

"Think back," the Lord said as he stared into the distance. "Think back to when we walked a kingdom that had been brought down by its prince and heir. Every member of the pride, including its leaders was killed by the prince. All of them, except two, a lioness and a cub. The cub was male." He looked back at Nduli. "You were there. You were here on earth, you saw the massacre and you brought the souls of the king, his mate, and their fallen pride members to me."

Nduli was smart, but unlike his Master he wasn't all-knowing. Unlike his Master he couldn't be in multiple places at once. He thought on the words and searched his memory. How many times did he walk through a blood covered land? The massacre of a kingdom was a rare occurrence and the only time he ever walked through the scenery of one was…

His eyes widened and he remembered one of the lionesses he escorted that horrible day. That one lioness… she reminded him of the female he had seen in the cave. They both shared an uncanny resemblance to one another. When he saw that fallen lioness's spirit rise from her slaughtered body she didn't speak to him. But she knew who he was, they all did.

When she finally spoke it wasn't out of concern for her. Naturally, she knew what happened. She was dead, murdered, along with her friends. Her first words were, "My sister, Shabihi, where is she? Please, tell me that monster didn't kill her too!"

Nduli had shook his head and told her that her sister was safe, that she had escaped with a young cub who lost his mother and that they were far away from the massacre. A picture of that lioness flashed in his mind as did the recent image of the lioness in the cave. There was a small difference between them but not much. The lioness in the cave had grown older with time, but… Then realization fell on him, so did the name. Shabihi… the sister of the lioness he had taken so long ago… The lioness in the cave with a wounded shoulder… it was her!

"You're remembering, Nduli," said Rahimu with an everlasting patience.

The dark red maned lion nodded. His head felt heavy with the information. "Yes," he said. His mouth was dry. "And the lion, Lord? Who is he?"

"You don't need to know that. Shabihi is your priority."

"She is dying, Master. A bad shoulder wound. It's infected."

"She does not have long."

"When will she…?" He couldn't finish the question.

"Soon, Nduli," said Rahimu.

The angel of death nodded. "So I have to stay here for a while."

Rahimu gave a sad smile. "Yes and you have another question, don't you?"

"Yes," Nduli said quietly.

"Then ask."

"Will it peaceful? Her… her…"

Rahimu put a paw of comfort on Nduli's. "She will feel no pain." He spoke with promise.

He nodded, relieved and grateful. He looked back at the cave, his heart beating softly in his chest. When he turned back to look at Rahimu, the Lord was gone. He sniffed the air. There was a sweet smell that always came around when the Creator stood among His creation and when He departed. It gave Nduli comfort and he would need it today. Rahimu had known that. Nduli smiled, smirked, and ran his tongue over his lips.

He rose from his seated position in the grass and walked around. Knowing it was going to be a long day he walked over to a place near the waterhole and rested in the shade of some trees. True, he was a spirit and no living being could see him, but even the angel of death needed to relax and rest to prepare himself for the task ahead – The task of taking a departed soul back to its Creator.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"_You're not even an adult yet, but you are growing your mane. Because of that it's time you learn how to lead and rule with a hard paw. No more of this softness you get from your mother. You are my son and you will rule the way I want you to. You must be obeyed, always!"_

Dhoruba felt himself shake, felt his legs tremble under the power those words held. Yet another terrifying memory of his past, something he refused to acknowledge when he started spending time with the royal family of the Western Plains. The moment King Amri started teaching him about love and faithfulness Dhoruba had pushed all the ill-thinking and negative teachings of his father from his mind. King Amri, his late father-in-law, had had a profound influence on him. One he wouldn't change for anything in the world, and that included the ruler's advanced permission for him to marry his daughter Princess Kesha.

Over the years, following the passing of his father-in-law and mother-in-law, and the throne of the Western Plains given to him and Kesha, and the celebration of the births of their son and daughter, Dhoruba felt his life was finally at peace. He had anything and everything a lion like him could want – a kingdom to rule honorably and fairly, a loving, supportive and devoted mate, and children both he and Kesha could pass on the words of love, wisdom and faith to.

Oh, yes, Dhoruba was a lucky lion.

He felt himself smile. Perhaps lucky wasn't the word Amri would have used. Dhoruba heard himself laugh softly. _No, you would have used the word 'blessed'._ Now that he thought about it, 'blessed' sounded just right. It showed promise and hope, not only for himself but for his family, his pride and his subjects that lived all throughout the Plains and the kingdom in general.

During the day when he was awake he felt what Amri had called 'the blessings of Rahimu' all around him. His family was always in perfect health, the lionesses of the hunting party always returned safe and sound with no major injuries or deaths. The same with his guardians thank the Lord.

Every morning when he watched the sunrise at the top of the stone ledge that was their home, Dhoruba could feel something warmth flow inside him. Oh there was the sun but more than that. The warmth was also on the inside. Even when he was so tired from the nightmares that plagued his mind it was there, calling to him, beckoning him. Was it the love Amri so often talked about, a love that was unseen but yet could be just by looking into the lands?

As he stared out at the horizon, listening to the distant birds chirp, he smiled again. There was always such peace when he took the time to listen. It was as if the whole realm screamed of its love for the One who created it, who brought it life.

For three in-a-half years Dhoruba had lived in a kingdom that was nothing like the Western Plains. Sure, the sun rose every morning and set every early evening and the stars appeared, sometimes with a full moon sometimes not, but all those events seemed devoid and empty. There was hardly any mention among the animals of Rahimu. There was no praising the Creator. Even the pride members were afraid to mention Rahimu's name for fear of Dhoruba's father who Dhoruba knew, despised the name. He never knew why and he never asked. But here in the Western Plains the inhabitants and the pride spoke the name of the Lord unafraid and unashamed, always spoken with awe, love and devout praise.

When Dhoruba first started walking with his late father-in-law, it was Amri who told him that the Western Plains were founded on the basis of trust, love and deep faith in Rahimu. That trust, love and faith had been passed down from generation to generation ever since and Amri, along with his wife Malkia, had made sure to give it to their children. The guardians, also descendants from the first pride, did the same for their children.

Dhoruba's ears tipped upward as he thought of his brother-in-law Prince Taraji. He gritted his teeth. Correction: King Taraji. He wondered about Kesha's younger brother and whether or not he had passed his love of Rahimu to his own children.

He found himself missing the former prince of the Western Plains. Not long after his marriage to Kesha, Taraji had been sent to a nearby kingdom in the east to marry the heiress – a betrothal fashioned for them by both rulers – king and queen – when the pair were adolescents. Dhoruba had met Taraji's future mate only once back then when the princess came with her parents for a visit but it was enough for him to know that the two shared something special. Perhaps it was similar to what he and Kesha shared. He had never been born and raised in the Western Plains yet he had hit off well with the princess and had been ruling alongside her for four years.

Dhoruba, along with Kesha and her parents, attended Taraji's wedding. He could see that Taraji was content with his future position as a future king and with his bride. If anything Taraji had looked as though he were ready to conquer anything that came his way. Dhoruba smirked. He could never understand how a lion like Taraji could remain so confident in everything. But he was living up to his name. Dhoruba tried to remember the last time he and Kesha saw Taraji and his family. It hadn't even been six moons, had it? His kingdom and Taraji's had been friends for years, had seen one another through hard and peaceful times.

The Western Plains had an heir and an heiress in his and Kesha's children. Taraji's realm had been blessed with the same. Dhoruba smiled. Twins ran in the family. His tail tapped at his side. He hoped that soon, when his kingly duties settled down and allowed him a break, Taraji and his family could come for a visit. He knew Kesha missed her brother now and again. Dhoruba himself loved Taraji like the brother he never had and considered him a good friend, especially when he decided to stay in the Plains.

Dhoruba's ears flickered at a soft sound behind him. He rose and turned to see Kesha standing and stretching. He approached with a smile. "Have a good sleep?" he asked.

She yawned and returned his smile. "I did, and you?"

He was glad she asked now. Just how did he sleep? "It was…" He paused, his throat dry and lowered his eyes to the ground. "It was tolerable," he said quietly.

Kesha stepped close to him, eyeing him carefully. "No nightmares?" she asked gently.

He shrugged a little and tried a smile. "We should stay away from the caves more often." While he didn't suffer fully, in the back of his mind a nightmare tried to grab hold only to be pushed back when he moved closer to Kesha, finally laying his head on her side feeling it rise and fall as she breathed. Now he laid his head on her shoulder, answering her question. "No, none at all, but Kesha, as good a sleep I had it doesn't mean that…"

She raised her head until the side of her face was buried in his mane. "I know."

He sighed and pulled away, his head low. "I'm sorry."

She stared at him and tilted her head in confusion. "Why?"

"I'm suffering these crazy nightmares, and you have to listen to my constant complaining about them. Not only that but you and Jibade have to run the kingdom while I go and catch up on the sleep I lose because of the dreams." He shook his head and growled softly. "It's not fair, not to you, our son, the pride, or the realm."

"Dhoruba," Kesha began carefully. "Please, do not blame yourself. You can't help it that you have these dreams."

"I know." He sighed deeply. "I just wish I could uncover their meaning." Realization hit him. It was the new morning. He should tell her. "Kesha, as I said last night I went to see Ibada. Well, he… he said he can help me."

His mate's eyes grew wide and she smiled. "That's great. So, what did he say? What are his plans?"

He pawed the ground and told her that Ibada needed a few days to pray and figure out just what he was going to do. "I also told him that you'd be with me. But I shouldn't have. You need to be with the hunting party. You're their leader; they need you more than me."

Kesha shook her head. "That's where you're wrong, Dhoruba. Yes, I am their leader, but every single one of those lionesses can handle the hunts without me. They've more than proven that many times in the past. And, should anything happen, you do need me and I _want_ to be there." She nuzzled him lovingly. "I know you'd do the same for me," she whispered.

He swallowed. "Yes," he said thickly. "I would."

They pulled apart, each looking in the direction where the caves resided. "Come on, let's go home," Dhoruba said after a silent moment. "If Hubiri is not at one of the waterholes, he'll be at the caves."

Kesha nodded and they set off.

Along the way animals around saw them, stopped what they were doing, and bowed in respect. Dhoruba and Kesha returned the gesture. The sun warmed their backs and Dhoruba felt calmer, more relaxed. He breathed in the warm air through his nose and let it out through his nose, glancing at his mate with a fond smile. A part of him hoped that Hubiri was there waiting. A part of him wanted to see the representatives and solve, if not all of their problems, then a few so he could go home with the feeling he had accomplished something for the day. A part of him wondered if the shaman had a message for him through Hubiri, telling him that he found a way to help.

Whatever the royal advisor told him he would handle it in some way. He felt he had been neglecting his duties as king. A thought crossed his mind. If Amri was still alive, if he saw Dhoruba now what would he think? The thought made him stop cold. _Amri… by having these troubles have I let you down?_

_**Of course you let him down you moron! You lied to him; you didn't tell him where you're really from or what you did!**_

A surge of panic gripped Dhoruba's chest and refused to let go. He gasped for air and looked up at the sky. Kesha was still walking, unaware that he was not at her side. "K-Kesha!" he choked, his heart beating hard in his chest. She had to hear him. "Kesha!" he tried again.

_**Look at that! You're weak, Dhoruba, just like your father said you'd be. Like your father said you have too much of your mother's softness. Weakling, weakling, weakling!**_

Dhoruba growled angrily, only slightly aware his claws on all four paws were digging into the grass and the dirt. He shut his eyes, but the voice continued.

_**She can't hear you, Dhoruba! Speak louder, scream, or cry!**_

His growling increased and he let out a roar, hoping she would hear him. His eyes widened in relief when she turned around and came to him. "Dhoruba, what's wrong?" she asked.

He swallowed and prayed silently. _Rahimu… oh Lord Rahimu, give me strength!_ He sighed and shuddered as Kesha drew nearer to him. Without speaking he laid his head on her shoulder for a long moment and savored the sweet sound of her purr. He didn't answer her question, wasn't sure if he could and was glad when she didn't ask again.

They pulled apart and Dhoruba allowed a mischievous grin to fill his face. "Care to race me home my lady?"

She narrowed her eyes surprised but playfully. Whatever bothered him he wanted to turn it into something fun. "As you wish my lord," she replied.

Dhoruba started running and she was quick to follow and pass him. This only forced him to push his strength. He didn't care whether he won or if she did, he just wanted something to keep his mind off of the dark voice that seemed to hold a frightening truth over him like a dark cloud. In the race he pushed himself harder until he was side by side with his mate.

When they reached the caves Dhoruba's suspicions were correct. His majordomo was waiting. He and Kesha stopped racing and walked slowly towards the cheetah as he rose from his seated position beside the cave entrance and bowed his head.

"Your majesties," said Hubiri.

"Good morning, Hubiri," said Dhoruba. "How is everything?"

"The guardians are off patrolling and your majesties' children are with them. Some of the lionesses are out sunbathing and the hunting party is strategizing for this afternoon's hunt. And, even to my great surprise, there are no problems among the representatives, at least not today. I was told by some that they wanted to spend time with their people and families."

Dhoruba let out a sigh of relief. He had been hoping to hear that. Maybe he and Kesha could spend the day together. It had seemed like years since they had a full day to themselves. If he recalled correctly the last time was when Jibade and Mpenzi were cubs.

"Sire," Hubiri continued, "I went by the shaman's and he told me to tell you that he has some information for you regarding a personal matter. He says you would know what and to come when you were able to."

The king and queen exchanged glances. Both were hopeful. Dhoruba prayed that this was it, that Ibada had done what he said and that he could help. Kesha dismissed the royal advisor and wished him well on his day off. The cheetah, with thanks, wished the same for the royal couple, and left them.

"Dhoruba," Kesha said after a while.

He turned to her and gave a soft smile. Then he nuzzled her. "Let's go see Ibada."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Ibada was certain that while he slept the previous night he had been praying and meditating over the king's problem in his mind. He was even certain that praying and meditating in an upright, seated position in the early morning before the sun rose had been a good idea. While he had a few animals come up to see him with one problem or another he still went through the king's problem silently in his mind, hoping to come up with a solution to help.

But seeing the royal advisor only a few hours ago shocked him. He hadn't seen Dhoruba and Kesha's majordomo in three moons, or longer. He couldn't recall the last time. But the two were good friends, always working for the good of the kingdom and the leaders. Ibada chuckled to himself. He remembered baptizing the royal advisor, asking God to watch over him and bless him, his parents and his siblings. He had done that many times in his years as a shaman. Of course, it was required. It was part of his job.

Seeing the royal advisor walking to his tree he called out to him but instead of having the cheetah come up, Ibada had slid down a vine and the two talked in the grass. It was there he got the idea to tell Hubiri that he needed to see the king immediately. That was, of course, a few hours ago, but it was enough.

Allowing and sometimes forcing his mind into near constant meditation and prayer all through the night and this morning had been plenty. He had gone through only a few scenarios in his head, one idea being good while the other was simply too risky, maybe even dangerous. He had never heard of a Western Plain king suffering strange dreams of a slaughtered kingdom and with no explanation as to why he was suffering them. It confused Ibada and he was a shaman! In the end he knew of only one thing that could ease the king's mind. It wouldn't be a permanent solution, but it would have to be enough at least until he found another.

He stared out of his home, looking at the horizon. He put a hand on his chest, feeling the soft gentle beat of his heart. "Oh, Rahimu, please be with me. I hope I'm making the right choice for Dhoruba. God, what are these dreams that plague my king's mind?" Ibada closed his eyes as his emotions rose to the surface. While he wasn't expecting the Lord to answer him he was expecting the Lord to answer him. It was strange the wills and wants with flesh and blood beings, him included. He heard himself chuckle. "Rahimu what were you thinking when you created us?" he asked, shaking his head.

His attention was suddenly grabbed when he heard his name be called down below. He looked down and immediately grasped the vine in front of him, slid down to the grass and bowed in respect to the rulers of the Western Plains. He knew why they were there but he had to ask.

"King Dhoruba, Queen Kesha, to what do I owe the pleasure and honor of your majesties visiting me and my humble home?"

The leaders exchanged glances and Dhoruba looked at the shaman with a near pleading face and spoke the only words he could think of. "Ibada, can you help me?"

The monkey let out a sigh in soft relief. Looking up into the faces of his monarchs he nodded his head. "I can your majesty. Excuse me for one moment and I shall be back with the remedy."

With that he grabbed the vine and climbed back up into the tree. Walking to the place where he slept he looked at the small green substances on the floor. There were two of them, herbs. They were small but effective. He had gathered them long ago and stored them for safe keeping, in case he or his patients needed them. Well, one of his patients did this royal lion. He placed the herbs carefully in the palm of his hand and returned to Dhoruba and Kesha.

"Here, sire, these are sleeping herbs. They should help you." He opened his hand.

Dhoruba looked and gave a small nod. "Thank you, Ibada. When should I –"

"Now, sire," said the shaman. "These type take time to work, and no, eating from the hunting party's kill should not affect you."

The king carefully gathered the herbs into his mouth and chewed slowly. They tasted horrible but if they worked so much the better. "Will these stop the nightmares?" he asked, almost hopeful.

Ibada shuddered. It was the question he hoped would not be asked. He sighed softly, knowing he had to tell the truth. "No… they won't, sire. They'll keep them at bay for a time."

Dhoruba resisted the urge to growl. Ibada was only a shaman and couldn't work miracles. _But I need one… oh Rahimu if you're listening I need one._ He nodded stiffly but firmly. "All right, Ibada, I understand and t-thank you." He felt Kesha come closer to him and was glad.

The shaman bowed deeply and stared into his ruler's face, his own filled with a deep regret. "You're welcome, your majesty," he said, pained. In his heart and mind he too called out to the Lord of all. _Rahimu, there must be another way. Just sleeping herbs, that's it? I… I feel so helpless._

_It doesn't make sense now, Ibada, but it will. Trust in me like you always have and remember that I am still at work._

Ibada sighed hard. His heart pounded but was quick to calm. He put his hand on his chest and closed his eyes. If Dhoruba or Kesha noticed neither royal said a word to which he silently thanked them. _Yes, Lord, I understand and I will._ He was pulled from his thoughts and mind praying by the sweet and gentle voice of the queen. He looked to her and could see her father's face, his last great king.

"Yes, Ibada, thank you," said Queen Kesha with a smile he had seen so many times before. It brought a tear to his eye.

He sniffed. "You're welcome, your majesties," he said, bowing again. This time his stomach nearly touched the ground.

He watched as the king and queen of the Western Plains departed. Left to wander the lands they ruled, the lands that Lord Rahimu had blessed and prepared for Kesha's ancestor, the first king and his pride. He put his hand to his chest again and prayed out loud.

_Rahimu please let the herbs work. Please let Dhoruba sleep peacefully tonight._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

For a spirit, for an angel, Nduli was afraid. He was afraid of his wants. He was afraid that if he remained among the living much longer today he would ask Rahimu to strip him of his immortality and make him one of them. He felt himself being drawn more and more to the creatures of this place, or at least, the two leonine residents who lived here in this particular setting.

He was still in the spot he had chosen to rest in earlier in the day before the sun rose. All through the day he watched the young redmaned lion. Watched as he left the cave to step out into the morning light, yawn, stretch and then leave only to return later with what looked to Nduli like a small zebra in his mouth. Nduli frowned at that but quickly realized that the meal was for the lioness in the cave. Whether she had eaten or not, he couldn't guess. It was no concern of his. Her death would happen anyway.

For much of the day Nduli watched the redmaned lion pace near the cave, mutter to himself, then go to the waterhole, drink, plunge his head into the cool water and pull it out again, shaking his mane. The light tan gold lion did this so many times Nduli had chosen not to keep count. He found himself worried for the young male. Whoever this lioness was to him, soon she would pass from this world and he, the angel of death, would be escorting her to the Maker of everything.

With each moment that passed he knew the lioness's time was nearing and in spite of what he was going to do he kept his eyes on the distraught lion, even as he stood guard at the edge of his home. All through the day he heard the lion mutter about unfairness, about how he couldn't live without the lioness.

Nduli's ears went up, then down again as he caught the lion's words and after a moment it all made sense. The lioness Shabihi was this lion's adopted mother and clearly she was the only person the young male had. Nduli was deeply pained to have to take her away. But she was dying, it was her time, and Rahimu wanted her home with Him.

Then he remembered something the Lord had said when He was with Nduli earlier. He had said that, other than the prince who killed his parents, his pride, and many of the inhabitants of that kingdom, only two pride members had survived the massacre, Shabihi and the redmaned lion. He had been a cub then, now he was full grown. He had no idea what his name was but he wasn't here to take the young male, just his adopted mother who meant so much to him.

Nduli looked down at the grass and closed his eyes. "All things work together for the good of those who love Rahimu," he whispered. "I hope that this is another good because after today, this lion will have no one."

Aside from watching the lion Nduli prepared. He prayed and worshiped his Master. It was the only thing he could do, the only thing that would help him pass the time. He hated being among the living for long periods like this, but he had been doing it for far too long to complain. It was, after all, his duty. The few times he settled back to his spot he'd watched the redmaned lion pace the grasses, hear him growl and snap. He wished he could ease the lion's mind, but it wasn't his place.

"Rahimu, I hope he will be provided for. I know you won't abandon him."

Nduli closed eyes, but couldn't sleep. As a spirit he was unable to. When he opened his eyes again it was night. He rose, shook his body for no reason and looked up at the skies, watching the stars for a moment. He felt urgency within him, a calling.

_Go into the cave, Nduli…_

He swallowed, took a breath of the cool night air and let it out slowly through his mouth. He braced himself once again.

It was time for him to do his job.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Akanni was fearful, perhaps more so than he was that terrible day his blood mother had been taken from him. While he had never seen that horrible scene he could swear that even now after all these years, he could hear her screams followed by the prince's bloodthirsty and violent roars. But this… this was different. He hadn't been there when his blood mother died, but he had sworn to himself he would be there when Shabihi, his loving adopted mother, left this world.

With the deep pain he now felt at the idea that she was, without a doubt, dying, he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of sweet relief. Shabihi's death wasn't going to be the painful one his real mother experienced. Instead, Shabihi's death was going to be one of peace. While her shoulder wound was to the point where he couldn't even look at it he allowed himself to look her in the eyes and tell her when he was going to leave to hunt, get a drink from the waterhole, or take care of nature's business. He would never lie to her, though he often wanted to in the last few days to set her mind at ease. She knew what was happening just as he did. Neither of them was blind and they had been around death before.

"Death is always inevitable," Shabihi had told him. "One way or another death finds us and takes us to the One who made us."

As often as she could Shabihi reminded him of that fact, reminded him that even when things seemed most dark, Rahimu was always there. Now, Akanni wasn't sure. He was losing his adopted mother, the last remaining lioness of their old pride. She was dying and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. As she said it was inevitable. How he hated that!

Ever since she got hurt he had been afraid, worried, scared out of his mind. He didn't want her to die but she was going to and from the moment her shoulder wound started showing signs of infection he had done the best he could to care for her. But he wondered if his efforts were all for nothing. Death was coming for her. If she was suffering she was good at hiding it. Perhaps she didn't want to worry him.

Over the last four days he couldn't believe that he was going to lose her. She was leaving him permanently. He had never been alone in his life. She had saved him for goodness sake! Other than hunting for both of them and having her to lean against him when he lead her to the waterhole he had done nothing else. Unless, making sure their makeshift home was safe… did that even count?

He had been driving himself crazy all day, not wanting to leave Shabihi's side for fear she would breathe her last and he wouldn't be there. For the last two days she had slept, the pain in her shoulder worsening. It made him sick to his stomach. He hated to see her suffer. Now it was night and in the cave he watched her. Her sides barely rose and fell with her breathing. Was she even breathing? He laid his head down on her side. She was, but only just.

Akanni swallowed and sighed painfully. This was it. He had to do it now. It would kill him but he had to say goodbye to his adopted mother. For a quick moment he shut his eyes. He felt angry and he was angry at Rahimu.

"Why, Lord… why must you take her from me?" It was a question he had been grappling with for days. It wasn't fair! He knew personally that life wasn't but this… this was beyond not being fair. He wasn't sure what this was he just knew he hated it, hated it with a bitter passion. She was leaving him. What was he supposed to do? "Rahimu," he growled. "If you take her, you take me too!" A soft but weak voice pulled him from his anger.

"Akanni…"

He walked over and looked down at her, trying to hide his sadness. "Mother," he said. "H-how are you feeling?"

The lioness didn't open her eyes, only sighed. "I'm tired my son… so very tired." She breathed slowly but deeply, wincing only when pain shot through her body, which was often, more so since she got hurt.

He swallowed hard and tried to keep the tears from forming in his eyes. "I… I know, Mother. I, I wish that…" A tear snaked out of his eye. He sniffed.

"Akanni… please don't feel bad for me," the lioness gasped. "I-it's my time."

"No!" the redmaned lion snarled. "I don't want to lose you. I've lost too much in my life." His voice dropped as he added, "We both have." She had lost a sister to the murderous prince too. Why didn't he just kill them and spare them the misery that was their life?

As if she could read his thoughts, even in her own suffering, she said, "Yes, we have lost much, but you still have your life, Akanni. When I am gone –"

"Don't say it, Mother, please. I don't know if I can bear it."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "You have to. The Circle is making another turn… where one life ends, another begins."

"So must mine begin without you?"

"I… I am sorry to leave you alone, Akanni. But you're a grown lion. You're not a cub anymore. I have taught you everything I know. I have taught you how to survive. It is clear, that despite how I must meet Him, Rahimu wants me home."

Akanni scowled. "But I don't!"

"It is His will, Akanni. I know it's difficult, but you must accept it."

He wanted to say that he wouldn't or couldn't. The whole thing was hard but he had to face reality. He was going to lose her. He knew he had to continue with his life and live. She would want him to and if he didn't do it for himself he would for her.

Akanni nodded, his mane falling into his face as tears snaked down his cheeks. "Yes, Mother, I will." Now that he said the words he had no choice but to see them through, even if it killed him.

Shabihi smiled, hearing the words. Her body was numb and she surrendered to it. It was time. "I love you, Akanni. You're the son I have always wanted."

He forced himself not to cry. "Please," he begged, "say hi to… my blood mother for me." This was it. He would fall asleep tonight, wake the next morning and she would not be gone.

"I will," she promised. "S-sleep well, and remember, Rahimu is always with you."

What he wanted to say in response he swallowed. Instead he said, "I will, and… I love you too, Mother." He spoke the words meaningfully. With that he settled down to his spot not far from her, looked at her for what he knew would be the last time and allowed sleep to take him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Since her sister was so cruelly taken from her four years before Shabihi had put the question of what it was like to die from her mind. After discovering her beloved sister's bloodstained and torn body on the floor of their pride's cave Shabihi had sworn to her own self that she would never think of her own death. She'd known her sister wouldn't want that.

But from the moment the wildebeest's horns had sliced into her shoulder just five days ago and when the infection set in she allowed her mind to wonder about her own death. She hoped she would go peacefully. When she felt her strength begin to fail her and had to lean on her adopted son to get around and to the waterhole she still hoped. When she could no longer get up, even with Akanni's help, she hoped.

And now she knew her hopes had been answered. She was going to die peacefully and… and leave Akanni all alone to fend for himself. It saddened her to the depths of her heart that she was leaving him but there was nothing she could do. She was in the care of Rahimu and she accepted this fate.

All the while she lay on the ground, feeling herself grow weaker, she prayed for her adopted son's well being, his safety, that when she was gone he would, if Rahimu willed it, find a pride that would take him in. That way he could really begin to live his life and have the family a young lion like him dreams about.

Her eyes were still closed, her body racked with pain, but she could feel it starting to lessen which meant only one thing. She was dying. She would miss Akanni but she would be watching him from her place in heaven that is if Rahimu found her worthy.

Her mouth was dry, her throat the same but she uttered the words anyway. "Lord Rahimu… into your care, I surrender my spirit…" With that she breathed her last.

Unbeknownst to her and the redmaned lion, another lion was standing beside her. He had heard the sweet and loving exchange between adopted mother and son. If he were flesh and blood he would have shed a tear. The whole thing was sad and beautiful at the same time. He heard her words of surrender to God and laid his head on hers. "You will soon see Him, child."

He waited. Like always a small warm breeze filled the air, a breeze he felt all through his body. Then, just as quickly, Shabihi's spirit was standing before him. Her shoulder was clean; she was whole and young again, probably four years old. He smiled. "Hello, Shabihi," he said.

She looked at him, a knowing stare in her eyes and dipped her head. "You are the angel of death."

"Call me Nduli."

She smiled and looked to what was her body. Then her eyes fell on Akanni.

"Do not worry about him. He will be all right. Rahimu is not through with him yet."

"I will miss him," she said, her voice sad. "But I trust in Rahimu, as I have done all my life."

Nduli nodded. He had had no doubt of the lioness's devotion to their Creator. "Are you ready?"

She hesitated for a moment and walked over to the young lion she loved like her own since he was a cub. She couldn't touch him as she was a spirit now so she laid her head near his and whispered in his ear. "Sleep, my son and dream of happier times. The Lord will always watch over you, as will I." Then she returned to Nduli and nodded firmly. "I'm ready," she said.

With no words the angel of death and the lioness Shabihi walked out of the cave, a brilliant white light surrounding them. Then they were gone, the cave dark once again.

Akanni did dream. He dreamt of his cubhood, in the early days when all was right, happy. And far away in the Western Plains, the king also dreamed of the love, peace and security he had found under the leadership of a righteous ruler.

For the first time in so long, two different lions dreamed in peace without the threat of frightening and painful memories of a past both would rather forget.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When he woke up to find Shabihi dead, Akanni felt a small wave relief and a large wave of uncertainty. Any unfairness he felt left when he'd seen his adopted mother surrender to her fate. She had such dignity and grace, even when she'd been hurt by the wildebeest and suffered from the infected shoulder. She never complained of pain. Maybe she had been numb, unable to feel the pain then and in the days that followed. He had hoped she would pull through, but his common sense told him that she wouldn't. That without a shaman or medicinal herbs to heal the wound before infection could set in she wouldn't be okay, she would die. She had, and he was alone, left to wander.

He laid his head down on Shabihi's side and whispered goodbye, his body shaking. He couldn't stay in their makeshift home. Not where she passed. When he controlled himself he gently lifted the old lioness up onto his back and carried her away from the cave and into the large field of grass where he or they hunted.

It was still early morning, the sun hadn't risen.

He looked around, whiskers twitching, his heart heavy in his chest. He shook his head as a few more tears slid down his cheeks. No one was around, the whole field was empty. It was just him and the body of his newly departed parent. He still couldn't believe it, but there was nothing he could do. Shabihi was gone and he couldn't bring her back. He leaned to his left and felt the lioness's body fall from his back to the ground. He arched, stretched, and then turned to look at her. He didn't want to bury her here but their shelter, or _his_ shelter, would be too risky. He didn't want any other predators to smell her and…

He shook his head and growled softly. No. He couldn't do that to her. She deserved more than that, better than that.

Akanni swallowed hard, remembering what she said to him the night before. Her words echoed in his mind. "Death is inevitable…"

He scoffed. Yes, it was and he wished it would take him. He didn't want to live the remainder of his life by himself. He searched his mind knowing he had to go on. He had no choice. He couldn't very well get himself killed on a hunt or pick a fight with a rogue lion or a coalition just so he could be with his blood and adopted mothers again. How selfish would that be? His front claws unsheathed and he ran them along the grass blades. Neither Shabihi nor his blood mother would want that for him, no matter how uncertain or unfair his life was, especially now.

"_We're all put here by Rahimu for a reason, Akanni,"_ Shabihi had once told him when he was a cub. _"Sometimes life isn't always set before us. It's up to us to find out what that life is and where the path takes us."_

She had known. She had known long before the hunting accident that she would die one day and it would just be him. She had spoken to him about Rahimu for as long as he could remember, always telling him to trust in the One, the Creator, their sovereign Lord and Master. When Akanni was a cub it was easy to say yes with his whole heart, even in the aftermath of their pride's decimation, his mother's death and their kingdom's destruction by its own heir. Growing up he believed his adopted mother's prayers.

Looking at her deceased body he wondered if she was in the heavens, with her sister, his blood mother, and their pride mates young and old. And, yes, with the Lord Himself, running through a paradise he'd heard the shaman talk about when she visited them when the king wasn't around.

Akanni remembered that the leader of their old home had hated the name of Rahimu. He remembered the king had the nerve to say so once in front of the shaman who muttered the word 'blasphemy' under her breath, an action that earned her a swipe of the king's paw to her cheek. He'd used no claws, thankfully, but even Akanni, at a cub's age, knew that it was wrong to blaspheme the name of God and in front of Lord's anointed healer and spiritual advisor.

Akanni let out a huge breath of air, his mind wandering. He was hurting. How could he not? Shabihi was gone and it was up to him to decide what he wanted to do with his life. He often heard the lioness talk of wanting to find a good pride to take them in, but he had been hesitant and afraid. She'd known why and never brought it up again for his sake but he knew, just by looking into her eyes, that she wanted him to have that life again. To have it be good and fulfilled. Akanni ruefully chuckled, shaking his head again. Finding a good pride was a slim chance to almost none.

"Shabihi," he said.

It was the first time he allowed himself to speak her name in years. The last time was when he was a cub and he still had his mother, in the days before their lives were turned upside down and his mother was brutally taken from him. It was only after they had hidden from the murdering prince, looked at their home one last time, turned and stepped out of the kingdom forever to protect themselves and each other, that Akanni felt comfortable calling her mother. It had sounded right when she was alive, but… She was gone.

Something occurred to him. Would she want him to call her Shabihi now that she was dead? Was it appropriate? She had been a mother to him nearly all his life. To call her by name now was…

"Shabihi," he tried again. It still sounded odd so he dismissed the idea entirely. He had no one to speak her name to anyway. What was the point? "There is none," he muttered softly and he prepared himself for one final goodbye. He stared at her body again, his own body shaking a little. "Mother…" He sighed deeply as tears filled his eyes. He laughed dryly. "I don't know what to say. Y-you're gone and now it's just me, but… At least you're not suffering anymore. You're healed and up there in heaven." The tears rolled down his cheeks. "You… you're with my blood mother and your sister. You're at peace now."

He paused and let out a soft sob. His legs trembled. "You took care of me, raised me as your own…" He tasted the tears as they fell into his mouth. They were sour. "I don't know if I ever said thank you…" A sound filled his throat and he realized he'd closed his eyes tightly and hung his head, feeling his front claws gripped the grass under his paws. "Thank you," he choked, his voice pained. "Thank you so much, Shabihi. I owe you my life."

He managed with great difficulty, to control himself and forced his body to cease its hard, violent shaking. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She looked so peaceful and he was thankful she just slipped away and that he'd settled himself with the realization that she would die the night before. His sleep was comforting and in his mind he'd known she would be gone when he woke up. He raised a shaky paw and laid it on her side. Her body, he noted, was becoming cold. "Rest in peace, Shabihi… you deserve it."

His last tear fell on her cheek. Sorrow, and relief mixed in, washed over him but he remained rooted to the ground. His mind buzzed, his thoughts telling him to move, that he had to leave this place once and for all.

"I can't stay here anymore," he said softly to himself. "It'll remind me of you…" He looked around. The sun was up and some animals were around, lingering. He made eye contact with some but none of them moved. Perhaps they knew. Or perhaps they refused to do something that would enable him to charge. Fine with him, he would hunt later, when he left. He shuddered and looked down at Shabihi's body one more time. "Goodbye, Shabihi… I-I don't know what I'm going to do with my life or where I'm supposed to go, but…" He swallowed hard. "But I promise I will do all I can to make you and Mother proud."

He sighed, sniffed, and left the area, hoping that the animals around wouldn't disturb the body. It had to become part of the grass. All the animals knew that they would eat of her when she fully did. It was part of the balance. They had to eat the grass and the bodies of carnivores covered in grass in order to survive. "Just as we carnivores have to eat them in order to live," Akanni said quietly.

He stopped and turned fully around, another tear falling down his face. He thrust his head forward and let out a mournful roar that shook the earth beneath his paws. The sound was loud and long. It was what he needed.

When it was over his body trembled, his heart pounded. He panted and gasped for breath. So, it was finished. His memorial to Shabihi was over. He hoped she was pleased.

He bowed his head. "Okay, Lord Rahimu… wherever I go, I take you with me. Lead me now… to wherever it is you want me to be. Shabihi put her life in your care and I will do the same. I trust you. Help me face any coming danger with your strength and courage around me…" He ended the prayer and left the place that had been home for a time.

He hoped to find another soon.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The redmaned lion didn't know it but two figures were watching. They had seen the whole thing but he had not seen them or smelled two strange scents. He couldn't. They were invisible. No living creature could see them. The two animals were lions, or one lion and a lioness at his side.

The lioness looked up at the lion. "Will he be okay?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't crack.

"Yes," replied the lion, looking down at her with sparkling blue eyes.

She nodded and found herself smiling at him. He could say plenty with words, but so much more with his eyes. "Good. And you –"

He smiled. "I will always be with him. I will never leave him, just as I never left you."

"Thank you, Lord." She too smiled then stared back at the young redmaned lion that was leaving the field. She was afraid to ask, but it was on her mind. Rahimu knew that. "Where will he go?"

He followed her gaze, not that he needed to. "I will direct his steps. He will not be on his own for long, Shabihi."

She turned to him, eyes wide with amaze and hope. "No? Then does that mean –"

"I have a plan for your adopted son, yes. I know the plans I have for every creature."

Her ears tipped upward as she wondered about those animals that chose not to follow and live their lives for Him. She even wondered of the lion that killed her sister, Akanni's blood mother, and their whole pride. Where was he? Did Rahimu love him the way He loved her or any of the others in heaven? Did He mourn for the fallen the way she and Akanni had? It took her a moment to realize that He could read her thoughts. Instead of confirming her thoughts, He spoke.

"Shabihi…" He said her name softly, almost like a whisper. "I did mourn for your sister and the pride of lionesses and for the cubs. I even mourned for the queen and her mate."

"Even though they failed you and the king refused to acknowledge you?"

A spark flashed in His eyes she noticed. Whether it was of anger or sadness she wasn't sure. She hadn't been in His presence long enough in heaven to know before they appeared here.

His ears went back, his expression hurt. "Yes, even then. Every word of love and praise I put into your shaman's heart and mouth he refused it. I knew he would. I knew he didn't have a heart for me. King Abasi refused me, even when he was a cub, as you yourself know. It hurts daughter, but he made his choice. All of you – both the living and the dead, the ones who love me and don't – are part of me. What hurts the living hurts me. What pleases the living and the saved in heaven pleases me. Do I feel the agony of those who are judged for their bad works, for their unbelief? Yes, I do, because all through their lives, their souls ached to be with me, to belong to me forever, denying themselves and to love their families, their friends and their enemies unconditionally. But it doesn't happen, and I know that a few will choose me and the life I have for them."

She nodded solemnly, silently. "You gave us free will."

"What would love be if it were forced?"

She shook her head. "Conditional."

"Yes, and I didn't want that. I wanted to love you freely, unconditionally, and I wanted you to do the same. Some do, some don't."

She moved close to Him, laying her head on His majestic shining white colored mane. "But I do, Lord."

He smiled and purred like a father. "I know, and I love you, Shabihi. I love Akanni too. You taught him well."

"I hope so."

"You did," he reassured her.

She nodded and could only wish the best for him. After everything he went through he deserved it.

"Come, Shabihi. We do not belong to this place."

"I will follow you wherever, Lord."

With that they slowly faded.

The animals in the field did not see their Creator, but with one sniff of the air they smelled a beautiful scent and felt a warm breeze on their bodies. Some of them praised their Maker with calls of love and devotion. Others merely bowed their heads in silent prayer.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When Dhoruba woke he did it without fear. He opened his eyes, looked around and smiled. He didn't dream. There were no nightmares. He just slept, with Kesha beside him of course and it was a good sleep, the best he'd had in a while. He would have to go to Ibada and thank him for the sleeping herbs. He hoped to have as good a rest tonight. He remembered the shaman saying that the herbs wouldn't cure him of the nightmares, only sustain them for a time, but for how long? The question came to his mind, unbidden. He shook his head. _No use thinking about that,_ he thought. _I'll only put myself in a feared and tired position again and I don't need that. I've had enough of it by asking why I'm having these nightmares anyway._

He licked his lips and looked about the large chamber. In the back, his son and daughter were still sleeping, always a few feet from each other. He couldn't help but smile. They were a blessing his children. He remembered the days when they were infants and slept in either Kesha's forelegs or at her side, curled up as closely as they could get to their mother and each other. They had often slept in his forelegs; their heads snuggled up against his warm soft mane. It seemed like a lifetime when his children enjoyed the pleasures of their cubhood, playing with their friends or wanting him and Kesha to play with them.

There were times back then, when he and Kesha let their duties to the kingdom go so they could spend a day with Jibade and Mpenzi, knowing that they wouldn't always be cubs and that the hunger for their love and attention would last for so long. Dhoruba smirked to himself, shaking his head. Then again his son and daughter still loved spending time with them, whether it was he and Jibade walking the kingdom and seeing to the animals, or Mpenzi and Kesha taking a private mother/daughter hunt together.

When the prince and princess were born Dhoruba and Kesha promised each other and their sleeping children that they would never allow their royal duties get in the way of raising their children. Dhoruba simply wouldn't allow it, he knew Kesha wouldn't either. She and her brother Taraji never had to worry about their parents putting their duties to the realm before family. In fact, if Dhoruba remembered correctly, Amri had told him that if he was given a choice between spending his days with the kingdom or his children he would spend it with his children. The same was true for Amri's mate and queen, Malkia.

Even Kesha felt the same but how couldn't she? She loved Jibade and Mpenzi as much as Dhoruba, perhaps if not a little more because she was their mother, because she had carried the two within her for three moons, suffered through the pains of birth, washed them after they were born, and nursed them. Yes, with all of that Kesha had a closer bond and if Dhoruba was honest with himself he was a little jealous. But with his jealousy his love for his mate and children increased.

He continued to watch them, his heart aching. He couldn't recall his own father spending any quality time with him, never telling him that he was loved. Any time Dhoruba spent with his father resulted in him being hurt, his head filled with pain, his body numbing from the blows of the lion's large paws. The day he saw his newborn son and daughter he swore he would never lay a paw on either of them. They were his children, his pride and joy. They needed his love, not his punishment. They needed discipline, yes, not in the form of hard smacks but from his words, first harsh, then gentle, but always because he loved them and wanted them to learn from their mistakes.

Above all he wanted them to turn out better than he did. If it hadn't been for Amri he would never have known what real love was, let alone what it meant to truly love someone else. Amri had been his teacher, he had been the closest thing Dhoruba had to a true father and he had loved the old leader like a second parent.

A sudden ache filled his chest. Amri had died before Jibade and Mpenzi were born, he had not lived long enough to see his grandchildren from Kesha, or his grandchildren from Taraji. Dhoruba closed his eyes. "You would be proud of them, Amri." He spoke softly into the darkness. "I know I am of mine and Kesha's. Taraji… well, I know he's proud of his." His ears sagged. "I wish you were still alive. I could use your advice and wisdom right now."

He slowly rose not wanting to disturb Kesha. She needed her sleep. He remained standing still, his ears perking up. He couldn't hear any activity outside the chamber, which meant that the pride was either still sleeping in the main den or left as quietly as they could. He smirked, knowing that Bukua – Rahimu bless him – had probably taken charge. He wasn't a Prince Consort but Dhoruba often thought about appointing him. He always knew what to do, what to say and how to take charge of a situation especially in his rulers' absence. Dhoruba wouldn't be surprised if the guardian had played Prince Consort today. It wouldn't be the first time. If so there would be a few less things for him and Kesha to do.

He looked down at Kesha, watching her sleep, watching as her side rose and fell with every silent breath she took. He smiled and then walked over to his son and daughter. His eyes fell on Jibade, studying him. The prince inherited much of the markings from Kesha and Taraji's family. Of course he was a grandson of the late King Amri and Queen Malkia, a descendant of great Western Plain rulers but he was also a grandson of Dhoruba's own father, a lion whose name was so foul that the day he left his homeland he refused to speak it. He never mentioned it to Amri or Kesha so great was his disgust, shame and anger.

Whenever he looked at his son, his and Kesha's heir, he was filled with fatherly pride and admiration at how well Jibade turned out. But with those feelings, such happy feelings, dread and fear accompanied them. He wondered if somewhere, deep down, Jibade had inherited even a bit of his grandfather on Dhoruba's side of the family. Did Jibade have an urge to control and hurt anyone deep inside? He shook his head. No, of course not! His son was a kind lion, a gentle lion. Surely he didn't have a mean bone in his body!

From the moment the prince was old enough to understand his mother told him about Rahimu and the Western Plains' founding. Dhoruba himself heard later from his mate that their son was willing to trust the Lord always, with his whole heart and every day since Jibade had done just that. But something nagged at Dhoruba constantly, more so since he started having the strange nightmares. Would his son lose his deep rooted faith in God? If he did would he succumb to the want for power and treat his family, friends and future subjects like slaves? Would he be like his father's father?

Dhoruba's throat constricted as his eyes fell on his son's black colored mane, a color he inherited on both sides of the family. Jibade's fur was a mixture of his parents a deep rich medium sandy gray brown that shone red in the setting sun. The only thing the young prince seemed to inherit from Dhoruba directly was his light grey eyes.

"You have the eyes of my mother, your grandmother," he whispered, a new pain filling his chest. "She would have loved you, I'm sure." His mind buzzed with the certainty of his words.

He knew what he wanted to do today and the problems of the kingdom would have to wait. Once again he would have to ask Kesha to take care of the representatives in his stead as much as he didn't want to. But he wanted to spend the day with his son. He needed to. He wanted, or had to know that no matter what, his son would never turn away from God, that whatever traits he inherited from Dhoruba's side of the family wouldn't manifest into something else, something ugly, frightening, that would mean judgment for the Western Plains.

Before he could talk to Jibade, however, he needed to speak to Kesha and let her know of his plans. He returned to her side and nuzzled her gently awake. Her eyes opened and he was drawn to them the same way he'd been when they first met.

He smiled. "Hey."

"Hey." She raised her head and yawned. "Did you –"

"Before you ask, let's go out to the stone." His face turned serious. "We need to talk." Without waiting for a reply he walked out of the chamber, leaving her confused.

Quickly, she rose, stretched her legs, arched her back, shook her head and trotted up to follow him. Soon she was at his side. The main den was empty. Dhoruba wasn't surprised. His suspicion that Bukua had taken charge of things was confirmed. He glanced at Kesha. She wasn't surprised either, not that he expected her to be. Like him she trusted Bukua.

_As did you, Amri, and Malkia,_ Dhoruba thought._ He's a good lion, a good guard, a worthy lion to rule in my and Kesha's stead when needed._

They stepped out of the main den and walked up the stone, sitting side-by-side like always. The sun was up, the lands bathed in the beautiful golden color.

Dhoruba breathed in the crisp cool air and let out a sigh of relief and peace. He was awake, he was alert and it felt great. He turned to his wife, smiling broadly. "Okay, you may ask," he said with a bit of humor.

The queen turned to him, eyes wide, but a smile filled her face. She tipped her head, eyes narrowed playfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"Ibada's herbs worked."

"No nightmares?"

He shook his head. "No."

"That's good. So, you said you wanted talk?"

"Yes. It's about Jibade." At her confused look, he explained. "He's going to become a good ruler, a fine one I hope. You have… taught him well, Kesha, and now I was thinking…" He paused.

Kesha smiled. "Now you want to teach him?"

He shrugged. "No, you've done that. I don't think he needs to learn any more, at least not anything from your side of the family." At that his ears fell.

Kesha understood. "And you want teach him things from you side?" she said softly, knowing that talking about his blood family was difficult. He hadn't done it in years. She could recall only a few times. One was when he recovered from his injuries and they were talking. She had asked of his family and he flinched painfully. The other times he just bowed his head with a painful look in his eyes. She never asked again. She hated to see him in such a state.

"I wasn't going to," Dhoruba said, "but I want to make sure he knows the bad side of ruling too. I want him to avoid it and since I'm feeling better again today…"

His mate nodded. "Yes, I agree. You should talk to him and I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"I'll get him."

"No, I'll do it. I need to talk to Mpenzi."

Dhoruba nodded deeply and smiled. "Okay, thank you."

Kesha nuzzled him, rose and left.

Dhoruba's thoughts churned throughout his mind. He stared out into the lands, thinking just how many leaders – king and queen alike – had ruled these fair lands, or at least how many had ruled before Amri.

_There must have been a lot,_ he thought to himself. _These lands have stood for many generations. The first king… He must have found great favor with Rahimu to leave his own homeland and settle here. Every leader of these lands has found some sort of favor from you, Lord. Amri was blessed with your knowledge and wisdom, Kesha with your love and grace… so what of my son, Kesha's son? He has her blood flowing through him. He is a descendant of the first king. If he continues to trust in you will he find blessing and favor, or will…_ The thought terrified him but he had to mentally voice it. _Or will my blood taint him? How is it that I was able to escape my father's wickedness? I left… I left my own family, the pride and the inhabitants of the realm to suffer more abuse under my father. I pretty much left them to die. You knew what I –_ His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the gentle voice of his son.

"Father…"

He turned his head and saw Prince Jibade standing proud and concerned. "Son," he said.

The young lion approached. "Mother said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes. Come, let us walk."

As the king and prince, father and son, walked down the stone, the small ramp, and through the grasses, Queen Kesha and Princess Mpenzi stood at the entrance of the den, watching as the lions' large forms walked further and further away.

The princess turned to her mother. "Did Dad sleep any better last night?"

"Yes. The shaman gave him a few sleeping herbs and they worked."

Mpenzi smiled, her early evening blue eyes shining a little. "That's good. I've been worried about him and so has Jibade. What about Ibada? Has he figured out what's wrong?"

"No, not yet, but he will. Ibada has never had to help people with nightmares, especially the kind your father's having."

The young lioness nodded. "I hope Ibada can figure it out, for Father's sake, of course."

Kesha nuzzled her daughter. "As do I, Mpenzi, as do I." As she looked out into her father's lands, her lands, she prayed silently. _Rahimu, please, work in Ibada, and allow him to figure out the nightmares that disturb Dhoruba's sleep._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The king and prince of the Western Plains walked the eastern side of the kingdom in silence. Any animals nearby – and there were plenty of them – could tell that the prince and heir to the throne was going to be as strong looking as his father and grandfather, the late King Amri, respectively. They had noticed the same of their deceased leader and his son, their former prince Taraji who was ruling the kingdom in the east.

Watching their current king and future king there was no cause for them to be concerned if whether or not Prince Jibade was capable of leading them one day in the future. He was the son of Queen Kesha and through her he was the grandson of King Amri and a descendant of long dead leaders that kept the Western Plains safe and still following the Lord God Rahimu. But still they hoped Jibade would keep the faith of his mother, grandfather and ancestors because no one knew of King Dhoruba's faith, if he had any.

Just as they watched King Amri and Prince Taraji walk these lands before the prince left, they had seen him walk with his daughter, their current queen, and the black maned, light gray eyed lion who had been their king for nearly four years. A good portion of animals in the Western Plains had speculated that King Amri was teaching the new member of the lion pride the ways of the kingdom, its traditions and its history when the two lions walked one day. They had known that he was going to stay permanently, and after Prince Taraji left they'd seen King Amri walk with his daughter and the strange lion whose name was Dhoruba. When that happened they knew the king was preparing the two to become the next rulers.

It spread, with respect of course, that the princess and the brown gray colored lion were in love and that the king and queen approved of the match including the prince before departing to be with his future mate.

As some watched King Dhoruba and Prince Jibade they wondered to themselves what was going on, but dismissed it as none of their business. If the king was training the prince in preparation for the day he would succeed his parents on the Western Plains throne so much the better. Even a lion as young as he needed all the training and teaching he could get. When the prince walked with both of his parents the animals would know for certain that the day of new leadership was nearing. For now they milled about, ate the grass of the ground, the leaves of the trees, and drank the cool water from the waterholes.

King Dhoruba looked at the young lion beside him, his light gray eyes showing a deep concern he'd hoped to never have. But here it was and he had to deal with it. He watched as Jibade looked at him, light gray eyes meeting the same and locking. Then Jibade turned away, shaking his mane. Dhoruba felt himself smile. His son couldn't be more like him if he tried.

_**Yes, he is like you isn't he? And if he knew what you really were and what you did he wouldn't want to be like you at all. If you ever tell him he'll despise you and renounce you as his father!**_

Dhoruba suddenly stopped and gasped silently. There was the dark voice again, pulling at his mind and tugging his spirit. He trembled and prayed quietly. "_Rahimu… please be with me. I only want what's best for my son. I don't want him to fall by the wayside. It's so easy. I want him to carry on the faith of his family here in the Western Plains. I want him to want his future pride and subjects to speak your name, praise you, and seek you always and without fear. That's what I want for him. He loves you, Lord. I do too._"

_My son, your love for your son and family is a mere speck of what I feel for you…_

This new voice was different. It spoke to his spirit, his soul, casting out the dark words of the other. He savored it, the voice of his Lord, the One he'd come to know through his late parent-in-laws, his king brother-in-law, and his beloved wife the queen. Because of them he was able to praise Rahimu without fear. It was joy, a wonderful release. He looked up as Jibade walked on, stopped and turned around to him.

"Father, are you okay?" the prince asked.

He started and nodded. "Yes, thank you. Did your mother tell you why I wanted to take this walk with you?"

Jibade shook his head. "No."

Dhoruba pawed the ground and forced himself to move. He needed to. They started walking again and Dhoruba prayed for the strength to speak. "I… I've never told you about where I came from or anything about my family, have I?"

The younger lion thought for a moment then shook his head. "No, not to my knowledge, you haven't."

"There's a reason." Sighing heavily he continued. "I was born in a kingdom far from here. My father… wasn't a good lion. He was mean, cruel in every way, and ruled his kingdom with a hard paw. He only married my mother to produce an heir – me and only me. He had hoped she would birth him more children, namely sons, but it was just me. I was the only son and an only child. He was disappointed and blamed her. He didn't love my mother at all, and the lionesses of the pride… He allowed them to mate with any rogues that lingered on the border because he didn't want any illegitimate heirs. He let them birth their cubs and raise them in the pride too. I'm not sure why, but looking back I'm glad he did. It was good to have playmates, even if they were all female, but I rarely saw them because I was with my father training to be king. I hated it."

Jibade bowed his head, the words sinking in. So his father was born and raised by a king who wasn't good? He'd never known a bad king could exist. He'd only known good kings, just two – his father and his uncle, his mother's twin brother. In a way, he felt like he knew what a good king his grandfather Amri was by the way the lionesses, the animals and his parents talked about him. He found his voice and spoke, his lips dry. "What was your mother like?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation away from his father's father for a moment.

Dhoruba paused before answering, thinking. The question caught him off guard but he managed a strained response. "She was… She was sweet, loving and a good queen in her own way. She led the hunting party just like your mother. She loved the pride too."

"Did she love you?"

He wanted to smile and say yes she did, but couldn't. Instead he said, "S-she did, a-again in her own way, son. It was hard for her because of my father. Like I said he was a hard lion and he didn't treat me the way he should've."

Jibade looked at his father, understandingly. The question near stuck in his throat but he was able to bring it forth. "He… abused you?"

Dhoruba nodded. "Yes. Because I was his only son he wanted me to be strong, perfect, and able to rule like him. Whenever I didn't do what he wanted exactly the way he wanted he would use his paws, claws out, to teach me a lesson."

The prince flinched and in that moment he was grateful to Rahimu that his father was kind to him and Mpenzi. He couldn't imagine having a father that hurt him or his sister. He would have to take hard measures if his father ever laid a paw on Mpenzi. Hadhari wouldn't be pleased either. But it would never happen. His father loved his children. "Father, I'm glad you're not like yours," the prince said with a smile.

Dhoruba found himself smiling back. "So am I, Jibade."

They walked on in silence for a while, Jibade with his head low, still trying to sort through what his father had told him. What other agony did he go through? Did his mother even protect him?

Then, as if reading his thoughts, the king spoke. "There were times when my father beat me in front of my mother," he said in a hard voice. A snap filled his light gray eyes, almost like he was remembering a time. He was and it caused him to growl softly. "She tried to stop him. She even threw herself down on me once when I was a cub only to be knocked away by my father." A tremble fell on him. He shook and continued with hardening eyes. "I remember after my father knocked my mother he leapt and began to beat her, saying in a loud growl not to interfere when he was disciplining me, that if she did again he would kill her." He swallowed. "I think he would have."

_I wonder if he did,_ he thought with fear. He hadn't even wondered about his mother when he left. He'd more or less put her out of his memory… and after all she had done or tried to do for him… What kind of son was he? He abandoned her!

_**You have no right to call yourself the son of a king and queen! Just what kind of son would leave his poor mother to the cruelties of his father anyway?**_

The dark voice had a valid point, even if it was mocking. Okay, he deserved it. He'd proven himself unfit for his family's throne the day he left. He'd kept all these sordid details a secret from King Amri. Perhaps if he had told him maybe Amri would have changed his mind about him, kicked him out and warned him that if he ever set paw in the Western Plains again he'd send Bukua to kill him or do the deed himself.

Dhoruba shook his head, frustrated that he would think that way of the king he'd loved like a father. Amri wasn't that kind of lion and Dhoruba knew that if he could go back to a time when he and the late king walked the lands, he would explain just what his parents were like. Amri – Rahimu bless his wonderful soul – would have listened intently. He would have said that Dhoruba had nothing to be ashamed of, that he was protecting himself, defending himself.

Dhoruba smirked and wondered. Would Amri have said that or was it just his long-lost hope? He shrugged it off. None of it mattered anyway. He was here and with his son.

"Jibade," he began again. When the prince turned to him he said, "My father's treatment of me continued even when I started growing my mane. I was about your age when he beat me because I wasn't patrolling the borders the way he wanted me to. I almost died that time. It was after that I couldn't take it anymore. I quickly realized that fighting him would do no good because one or both of us could die so I did the only thing that made sense. I left. I threw away my royal status, my title, everything, and became a rogue. Then, by a miracle, I found the Western Plains. I found your mother; I found peace, safety and security."

Jibade nodded and felt a pang of sadness for his father. To have grown up in such an environment, it was a miracle his father even lived! "You never went back?" he asked, surprised.

"No, I couldn't. I didn't want to face my father. He was a large lion, a strong lion, the kind of lion that rogues with evil intent would be quick to fear." He laughed dryly and turned away, ashamed. "You must think your old dad a coward."

"No!" Jibade said loudly. "I don't, never!" He calmed a bit as he said, "Y-you were in a bad situation. You were confused, I'm sure. I truly believe that your father was, if not evil then just misguided."

Dhoruba was stunned at his son's words. He expected something else entirely and got this. He would have to tell Kesha. She'd be proud. "Yes and his father was the same way. It was a horrible nasty cycle, one I wasn't going to repeat. I guess I feared that staying would make me be like him."

"Dad… If you think your mother was mad when you left, can I just say I don't think so?"

The king's mouth fell open in shock. "J-Jibade, how can you –"

"Dad, if your mother loved you so much to endure your punishment, even if it was just the one time, wouldn't she want you to save yourself? To live the life you were destined to live, the one of peace, security, safety, and yes, love? If your mother didn't love you she would want you to stay just to be miserable. She would have sent you to your death. But she didn't do that, did she? She loved you enough to let you go, knowing that while you had never been outside the kingdom in your life, you would be safer there in the outside world than home."

Dhoruba was stunned and shocked to the core. He had never thought of it – his leaving – in such a way, and it was spoken by his own son who had no business being _this_ knowledgeable! He wasn't about to scold the prince. He was only speaking the truth, a truth Dhoruba himself never considered… until now. He nodded. His head was numb. "Y-yes, I believe you're right, son. Thank you."

The prince smiled and nodded. "You're welcome, Dad."

The king stepped close and nuzzled Jibade. "I want you to promise me something."

"Sure."

He pulled away and allowed his eyes to bore into his son's. "Never lose your faith in Rahimu. Speak His name whenever you wish and encourage others to do the same. Pray as often as you can, whether in public or in private. When you are king, make sure your pride and subjects know that it's okay to call on Rahimu in times of light and darkness, in joy and sorrow." At the young lion's confused look, Dhoruba added, "My father never allowed anyone to speak the Lord's name, not even the shaman, which is very wrong because shamans are given their gifts by Rahimu Himself."

The king paused for a short moment, his ears tipping back in sadness. "There was no praising Rahimu where I was born. Never," he continued. "My father detested the Lord. His father was the same according to the older pridal lionesses and my mother." He looked at his son hard, not really meaning to. He felt it was the only way to show the seriousness of his words, of what he wanted for his heir. "Please, promise me that you will love Rahimu and rule this realm in righteousness, in love, mercy and justice. Kill only when you have to, when you're defending yourself or your subjects and pride. Never kill for sport. It's wrong and against Rahimu."

Jibade nodded in all understanding. "Father," he began. The king's look softened. "I swear by all that is honorable and true, by everything you and Mother have taught me, I will rule with such principles. The Western Plains have stood too long by rulers obeying Rahimu and putting their faith in Him, and I won't become the first ruler not to. The Western Plains will not fall under the Lord's judgment. I won't let it."

Tears streamed down his face and he felt his heart beat soundly with peace and relief. He nuzzled Jibade lovingly, silently praising Rahimu for blessing him with so wonderful a son. _Thank you, Lord, thank you._

After that they walked in silence before Jibade, while keeping his father's story and promise in his mind, challenged him to a race. The king accepted, desperately wanting a change. He loved racing. His brother-in-law, the former Prince Taraji had once challenged him and the need for a race now and again stuck. He and Kesha raced, why shouldn't he race with their son? He may even challenge his daughter Princess Mpenzi one day soon, perhaps tomorrow.

A long moment later, the prince stopped and turned back to see his father not far behind him. The king had also stopped and was panting. Jibade laughed. "What's the matter, Father, you can't run anymore? Am I too fast for you old lion!" he teased.

Dhoruba's ears rose upon hearing those words. He panted, glanced up at his son, seeing the playful amusement in his eyes and smirked. "You're calling me old, boy? I'll show you old!" With a sudden burst of strength and a little more energy the king took off, ran past his son and shot forward.

He laughed. He felt free. If the sleeping herbs Ibada gave would only sustain the nightmares for a time then he would use that time, however long, to spend with his family.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

It was mid afternoon when the king and prince returned to the pride. The kill was caught and the lionesses of the hunting party were accounted for. Dhoruba was pleased as he approached his wife and daughter with Jibade by his side. The two royal males took their places beside the royal females. Dhoruba and Kesha blessed the kill, praising Rahimu for bringing them a wonderful feast that would last them for a few days if not more and thanking Him that the hunting teams returned home safely.

Dhoruba looked out over the pride as they ate. Some lionesses talked while others nearby nodded their heads in agreement, their jaws moving up and down as they chewed their pieces of antelope. They were content and the brown gray colored king smiled. Good. He wanted them to be at peace and they were.

As the meal continued Bukua and his mate Ajia approached the royal leaders, saying that all was well on the borders. Dhoruba nodded and thanked the two for their still dedicated service. The guardians bowed in respect and went back to their meals. Not far from them were Bukua and Ajia's children chatting away. They're not alone, Dhoruba noted. Jibade and Mpenzi were with them. He wasn't surprised, in fact he expected it. It was an everyday thing.

The five young felines had been the best of friends since cubhood. It was only normal that they spend the early evening meals together since they only saw each other now and again. He wanted his children to have such camaraderie. He himself never had it, his father forbade it.

Dhoruba smiled to himself. He was a better father than his own. Again, it was all because of Amri who had put his faith in a name so powerful it made the weak strong. Dhoruba had come to the Western Plains a weak and broken lion. Amri's tutelage of him and the ways of Rahimu had made him strong, had made him a lion who loved his family, his pride, his subjects and his kingdom in that order.

"Thank you, Amri," he said quietly as a tear of gratitude for his late father-in-law fell down his face.

Kesha noticed and leaned close. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He smiled at her. "Yes." He nuzzled her. "You needn't worry."

She nodded. "Hubiri came after you left. I told him that you and Prince Jibade needed some father/son time and to report to the caves tomorrow."

He nuzzled her again and added a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you," he murmured.

She smiled. "It's my job."

"No, it's more than that."

Kesha knew what he meant and asked about his talk with Jibade.

"Well," Dhoruba replied, "he listened and… he understands. He won't fail us," he added quietly, his eyes looking on the black maned lion, his son, his prince, and his heir. He sighed. Jibade was born in a realm of peace where he wasn't. Now and for the last few years he was ruling this realm and his son would do the same one day. Dhoruba bowed his head and silently prayed. _Thank you, Rahimu, oh Lord and God. Thank you for this kingdom and everyone who lives in it. Thank you for anointing me and Kesha to be its rulers._

He heard Kesha speak. "I know he won't," she whispered, of course referring to their son. "We've raised Jibade in respectful fear of Rahimu. He will be fine. I know it."

He laid his head on her shoulder. The two stared at their children and their friends. "I do hope you're right, my love."

That night as the pride slept in the main den, the guardians in their chamber and the royal family in theirs, Dhoruba did not dream of a slaughtered kingdom.

Instead he dreamed of a time when he and Kesha were in their earlier years of ruling, when Jibade and Mpenzi were cubs. He had felt no fear then, no nightmares. All he'd felt then, and still felt now was love.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Author's note: **Okay, to anyone who reads and reviews this chapter, I hope it was good. And since this week is Christmas and the next week is New Year's, I'm not going to be writing again until after the holidays. So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year one and all!


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Okay, first off I want to apologize for the one month delay. I had a small bout of writer's block, but I think I'm over it. With any luck this chapter proves it. To those of you who read and review this I hereby, in advance, thank you for your patience.

So, here we go…

**Chapter 7**

_One month later_

From the moment the Shaman gave him the sleeping herbs Dhoruba promised himself that he would be careful. The first few had helped well enough, for several days in fact. But in time the urge for more entered his mind, and he was able to suppress the urge by telling himself that he would go to Ibada for more herbs if he needed them, which he would. But he vowed to keep his visits to the Shaman as lengthy as possible. He didn't want to overrun Ibada or make him work too hard to satisfy his King, especially if he was busy with patients.

Once the sleeping herbs started to wear off the first time Dhoruba wanted to see how he would do for a week without them. For the first few nights he was fine, content. He didn't suffer any nightmares and allowed himself to believe that he had been cured, that Ibada had lied. But that was foolishness. It was wrong for a Shaman to lie, especially to his or her sovereign. Then after five days the nightmares started again and when they did Dhoruba walked to the Shaman's tree, asking for two or three sleeping herbs if they were available.

Ibada was hesitant at first but he did not disappoint. He dispatched two sleeping herbs to the King who chewed them, swallowed them and then thanked Ibada for his service.

The Shaman smiled but raised his hand in a gesture of warning. "Do be careful with them, Your Majesty. It is easy to become… dependant on sleeping herbs. If I give you too many in too short a time they can have disastrous and life-altering effects."

Dhoruba nodded at that, knowing full-well what the red brown monkey meant by life-altering. If he wasn't careful and consumed too many too soon they would either kill him or put him in a coma. Permanent sleep and or death were the last things he needed. He had a wife and son and daughter to look after, he had a pride to maintain and a Kingdom to safeguard. He was only seven years old, and his Heir and son Prince Jibade wasn't ready for the throne. Not yet. He needed more time, they both did and neither one would have time if Dhoruba lay in a coma or died because he'd become dependent on sleeping herbs to prevent him from having nightmares of a land riddled with bones and smelt of blood.

So he heeded the Shaman's warning. He had discovered that the sleeping herbs helped whenever he slept, be it at night or in the afternoon, taking a nap, which he rarely did but often enjoyed when he felt he needed it. He even found himself able to focus on his duties as King in the daytime.

As the days passed and the second taking of sleep herbs left his system, putting him back in the state of nightmares whenever he closed his eyes to sleep, Dhoruba forced himself to endure and not return to the Shaman's tree for more of herbs. He was able to handle the dreams for nearly two weeks but after that Kesha was dreadfully worried about him and brought him to Ibada's home and called for the Shaman.

Upon seeing his haggard King below, his majestic head resting on the shoulder of his wife, Ibada searched through the place where he kept his medicines, grabbed two sleeping herbs, slid down a vine, and held them out in his hand to Dhoruba who weakly took them into his mouth. Though it was the third time, Ibada felt bad. The sleeping herbs were not a cure and he himself had no idea _how_ to cure him. It was driving him crazy but there was only so much he could do. Dhoruba knew that and never demanded he try something else.

While the King tried to regain his focus on his duties and sleep better at night the lands of the Western Plains continued to flourish. The animals never minded when Queen Kesha came to take care of their problems in the absence of King Dhoruba. Both sovereigns were good at it and it didn't surprise any of them to see the King and Queen's son, Prince Jibade, their future King, often joining his mother. He would have to learn just what his parents did almost every day as he himself would be doing it when King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha stepped down.

Though Dhoruba was indisposed at times he was always pleased to hear that things were well under the Queen's guidance as far as the animals were concerned. The same, he knew, could be said of the guardians under Bukua's firm and steadfast leadership. The guards, along with a few predatory scouts from the cheetahs and leopards, kept a watchful eye on the borders for rogue sightings.

From what was reported to Dhoruba there were none and news like that set the King's mind at ease. If anything it made him sleep all the more easier. He wanted his kingdom to always be at peace and was pleased on a daily basis to hear it was.

Dhoruba felt that he was lucky to have such a loving Queen and loyal guardians. _Without them, I couldn't keep anything together,_ he'd think to himself before exhaustion brought his head down on his paws to sleep. _Let alone myself._

With Ibada's herbs the King was able to think clearly. There were times in the last few weeks, before his family and the pride woke, that he would go out to the stone ledge, watch the sun rise, and reflect on his life.

On this particular early morning he was out again, breathing in the cool crisp air. His sleep the previous night had been the same since he took another portion of Ibada's sleeping herbs a few days before: peaceful and free of nightmares. His ears fell and he bowed his head. _It won't last forever,_ he thought. _I know it won't._ And the fact that he had no idea why he was having such dreams frustrated him more than ever. There had to be a reason and he wished Ibada could work some of his shamanism and consult the spirits of the dead. _So why won't he?_ He growled quietly._ Maybe he doesn't know __**how**__ to help me! Maybe he's never dealt with this kind of thing before!_ He huffed softly and felt his blood boil. Then he chided himself. Ibada was a Shaman but he was also mortal. Even with his gift he couldn't work a miracle. Not for anyone, not for his King. _Maybe Ibada is confused… that could be it._

Dhoruba laid down, his paws dangling over the stone's edge. He stretched and laid his head on the cool ground. Thoughts churned in his mind. He hoped to concentrate today. He wanted to take Jibade out. He'd rarely spent any time with his son since their talk nearly a moon before. He'd either been too tired or Jibade was off with the young guardian Hadhari or the lion's sister Nasila. If he could spend the day with his heir he'd be glad, but if not…

_I won't blame him. He needs to be with his friends while he can._ He shut his eyes hard and prayed silently. _Rahimu, please help me… I need it._

He decided to rest. He did not want to sleep. If he slept it was possible that he would be pulled back to a land that smelled of blood and was riddled with bones.

For a time his body rested and relaxed. His breathing was deep, slow and rhythmic. The sun began to rise, filling the sky and the lands with its golden color and warmth. When the warmth reached the stone ledge the King felt it all over his body and the peace that came. He purred and basked while his mind wished for Kesha to come out here and join him. It had been some time since they lay out on the stone together in the warmth of the rising sun.

After a while he opened his eyes, shifted his body and moved backwards so that his forepaws no longer dangled over the edge. He rose and sat there, admiring the beauty of the Western Plains from the perch that Kings and Queens had sat and stood on long before him. He breathed in the air, felt the warm atmosphere caress his throat. He sighed peacefully.

_Rahimu… you have blessed these lands with a warm filled day._

It wouldn't last forever, he knew. In time the rain season would come and replenish the lands. He couldn't recall if the Western Plains had ever suffered a drought and wasn't sure if he wanted to ask. For all he knew it probably didn't.

He was quiet and didn't hear her paw steps, but he saw her sit beside him out of the corner of his eye. He smiled and turned his head to her, to Kesha, his Kesha. Her sandy fur shone like gold in the sunlight. It was so beautiful and her evening blue eyes glistened in the light. She was beautiful and he felt as though he were the most blessed lion and King on the face of the Earth. He moved toward her and she laid her head on his shoulder.

The King and Queen didn't speak. They didn't have to. On rare moments like these no words were needed.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When her father asked her to patrol the western side of the Plains, Nasila couldn't say no. Whenever her father asked her and her siblings to do something they did it without question, maybe with some slight hesitation and reluctance, but no question. Their father was the leader of their family and, like King Dhoruba they honored their father by doing what he said just as they would their King.

Nasila knew how this day would go before her father gave the 'command'. She would patrol alone, unless a member of the royal family joined her, which in all honesty she would prefer. Perhaps Mpenzi if she wasn't with the hunting party, or Jibade if he wasn't with his parents. Meanwhile her sister Johari would be with their mother and Hadhari with their father.

She stood in the grass, watched as her siblings and parents left in the selected pairs. She sighed, her ears going back. _Time to go…_

"Nasila?" said a voice behind her.

The lioness's ears went forward and she turned her head, a smile on her face. "Morning, Jibade."

The young Prince approached her, bowing his head with a smile. "Morning, Nasila. How are your parents?"

"They left a few moments ago. Mom is with Johari while Dad patrols alongside Hadhari."

He nodded and a sly smirk crossed his face. "Would you mind if the Prince of the Western Plains joins you so you won't be alone?"

She turned to him with narrowed eyes but Jibade knew they were playful. "Why, your royal highness, you would be willing to join little old me?" She let out a small laugh.

He stood tall, front and back paws together and bowed his head deeply. Then he met her eyes and spoke in a strong yet soft voice. "Yes, I would, my lady, if it pleases you." He smiled.

Her smile grew as she returned the playful gesture. She bowed her head. "It would very much, my lord."

Jibade stood still and managed a difficult swallow. 'My lord'… He had never heard those words from her mouth before and it stunned him. But, he reasoned, she was just being polite, and showing me respect as a Prince, which as her childhood friend, I don't really deserve. He shook himself and looked at her again. "Well, let us be off," he said.

They started walking towards the western part of the kingdom. The sun warmed their bodies but Jibade took no notice of it. His mind was filled with thoughts about his father. The King was doing well but that didn't worry Jibade. The conversation the two had a month ago, when Dhoruba told his son where he came from and what he endured as a cub and growing up shocked the Prince to his core and every day since he considered himself thankful that his father turned out the way he did, and that he and his sister had grown under loving parents in a flourishing kingdom.

Hearing about his father's past had surprised him; it was one thing he didn't expect. He'd always believed his father had been born and raised in the Western Plains alongside his mother and the guardians and the other lionesses their age, but it wasn't so. Jibade wondered how his father managed to survive in such a frightening realm for three years. _You're strong, Dad,_ he thought,_ and through your strength you survived._ He was proud of his father and was saddened to learn that his cubhood was so different than that of him, his sister and his mother and uncle. _But you came through and you've been living in a place you don't need to fear._

He admired his father for his courage and would never forget the promise he made to him, promising to be honorable to his friends, family and enemies – not that he had any – and above all, be faithful to the Lord Rahimu who, Jibade knew, was the source of all life including his own. His talk with the King, his father had made him determined to continue being the best Prince and one day the best King he could become.

With his promise the determination rose within him and every day since he had been willing to go with his parents on their walks through the kingdom and council sessions with the animal representatives. He wanted to learn all he could and soaked in his parents' information like the grass under his paws soaked up rain during the rainy season. Often he wished Mpenzi would join them but she said her place was with the hunting party.

"Someone has to be their future leader when Mom steps down or when she gets too old," the Princess said to him not long ago.

Jibade understood. His sister had found her place in the pride and he was happy for her. There were times during their adolescence when he worried about her, but no longer. Her position was secure. And his place had been prepared for him from the day he was born and, alongside his sister, presented to the animals as the new royal generation. But for him he'd been presented as the Western Plains' future King and anointed with a ray of sun from the heavens to prove it.

He had no idea what the future held for him once he became King, or what his sister and their childhood friends would go through when his reign started, but he was certain of two things: his sister would take care of the hunting party as Hunt Leader, or Hunt Mistress as the lionesses called the female who headed the hunts, and when he was proclaimed the new King he would be more than that. He would be the protector of the realm, his pride and all the inhabitants. But he wouldn't be keeping the lands safe by himself. He would have Hadhari as the next guard leader after his father, along with his sisters. Guarding was in their blood and they wouldn't let him down, nor would Mpenzi in her future position.

_Maybe our futures will be secure when I take the throne,_ he thought to himself.

"Jibade…?" Nasila's voice pulled him out from his thinking. He turned to her but didn't speak. She continued, trying to phrase her question as best she could. "You asked about my parents, so it's fair that I ask you about yours. How's your father?"

They had known each other since cubhood. If one counted infancy when he, Nasila, and their siblings would drink the milk from Queen Kesha and the guardian Ajia, thus making the five milk brothers and sisters, it was longer. So they had known each other from the day they were born, mainly because of the deep friendship between their mothers and it had been passed on to their children, something both mothers were grateful for.

Prince Jibade couldn't help but smile. He was grateful, in more ways than one. Then he remembered Nasila's question. His head jerked. "He's fine, quite well thanks to the Shaman's sleeping herbs. He's being careful with them and they're helping." When she asked if the King had had any dreams Jibade shook his head. "No, he hasn't had any at all. It's only when the herbs wear off he starts dreaming again." He shrugged. "Mom shows her worry when he goes too long without seeing Ibada after that. I do too, so does Mpenzi." His ears went back and he looked at the grass, suddenly at a loss for words. Should he tell her what he had been considering ever since he learned his father's painful past? Should he tell her of the decision he'd made for the King?

"I hope you know," Nasila was saying, "that I'm hoping your father discovers the meaning of these dreams."

He nodded and managed a smile at her. "So am I." He walked with her in silence for a moment longer then spoke again. "Nasila?" he asked.

She turned to him. "Yes?"

He phrased the words carefully in his mind. "Do…" he began, but paused. "Do you think I'll make a good ruler?"

She suddenly stopped, bore her eyes into the back of his black maned head and growled softly. He just kept walking, not even looking to see she wasn't beside him. Then she ran up and tackled him. He fell and they rolled in the grass until he was on his back. She stood on top of him, her paws on his maned covered chest. He looked at her, his light grey eyes staring deeply into her dark sea green. For a moment he was mesmerized. He knew she was a beautiful lioness but he'd never been this close to her or her eyes. His throat was dry and he swallowed.

"What was that for?" he asked, trying to sound irritated or surprised. _Or both,_ he thought to himself. _Or, perhaps, none at all… yeah, that's it, none._

"How could you ask such a question?" Nasila asked. "Of course you'll make a good ruler. You're the son of a King and Queen. You're being trained by _both_ of them for goodness sake, _and_ you're a grandson of one of the best Kings these Plains ever had, _and_ a descendant of the first King to settle here under the command of the Lord Rahimu." She shook her head ruefully. "Don't put yourself in a position of self-doubt, Jibade, or I swear I will pin you again and never let you up."

He looked at her, shocked. "You would do that?"

She stared back. "I am standing on you and you can't get up, so what do you think?"

Jibade then looked to see if his hind legs were free… He couldn't flip her over. "Okay. Okay, I understand, Nasila, I do. I just…" He paused, sighed, and laid his head back in the grass. "If you let me up, I'll tell you what's on my mind, deal?"

She considered that, then, still keeping her sharp eyes on his, slowly got off him. He rolled to his paws, shook the grass from his body and looked at her. They started walking and Jibade began to tell her his father's troubled past. From the day the King told him the Prince couldn't get it out of his mind and he had promised himself if he ever had cubs he would love them the way a father should love his children, the way his father loved him and his sister, the way his Uncle Taraji loved his own children, Jibade's cousins.

He looked at Nasila as he spoke, searching her face for any kind of reaction. He was even waiting for her to stop, take a step back in horror, or say something in a frightened voice. But she did none of these; he should have known she wouldn't. She wasn't a squeamish lioness; she was a guardian in blood, mind and spirit. True, she had never encountered a cruel rogue, never had to defend her homeland from foreign invaders who were malicious. And, like him and their respective siblings, she had no idea what it was like living under a tyrant and never had to witness that tyrant take out his anger on her friends, family or herself.

No. They were lucky, they were blessed, and they had rulers who were not lovers of themselves but lovers of the One who formed them with His own paw and anointed special animals to speak in His name.

"So he left his home," Jibade continued. "He had to and he knew his mother would want him to find a better life. He stripped himself of his birthright, his status, his title, everything. He became low, a rogue, and after wandering for so long, almost to the point of death he finds this." Jibade stopped and looked around, admiring the beauty that had been his grandfather's kingdom, that was his parents' kingdom, and would one day be his. He smiled and breathed in the air. "He finds a leader who rules with love, proper discipline, mercy and justice. He finds my mother and with her, inherits all of this."

Nasila stepped up to him, studying him for a long moment. He was so intelligent, so gentle and brave, so… handsome. She found herself drawn to him, even when they were cubs. They had played together all the time, they had grown up together. He would patrol with her. She knew he would protect her always and she him. She drew close to him, the side of her face touching his mane. She trembled slightly and drew back, her heart racing.

Then she found her voice. "He has you for a son and Mpenzi for a daughter. Your father has been blessed."

He bowed his head a bit and nodded. "Yes, he has." He turned to see her barely staring at him, her eyes downcast. Had he made a mistake? No, he told himself. He couldn't even tell Mpenzi all of this, but Nasila… They had been through so much over the years. He cared about her, but did he… He shuddered, his heart ached. Could he imagine the rest of his life without her? He would be a fool, he knew if he told himself that he couldn't. It was true. He couldn't, but was now the right time, after he'd just told her about his father? His mind turned.

"Nasila," he said, his voice strained, "I promise you, just as I promised my father a month ago… I will not be a bad ruler. I come, at least, on my mother's side, from a family of good, Rahimu-loving and fearing Kings and Queens. That's too much history to… distort with unmerciful, unjust and unrighteous ruling and living." Jibade shook his head. "I won't go down that path. Like my father, I will not follow in his father's pawprints. I can't. The very thought of doing so sickens me. I'd rather die. I will be a leader the Western Plains needs. I just hope that…" He paused and tried again. "I _pray_ you can believe that."

She stared at him, stunned. Did he really think she wouldn't…? _Yes, he does. But he knows me better than that. Now he needs my reassurance._ "Jibade," she began, her voice pained, "if you think you're going to fail when your time to rule comes you're wrong. You _won't_ fail. Your parents' teachings won't go to waste; I know you won't let it."

He heard himself laugh dryly. "You may be right."

"No, Jibade," she said plainly. "I _am_ right, and deep down you know this."

He nodded. "Yeah, I do." But he couldn't tell her his biggest fear – ruling alone.

As if she could read his thoughts, Nasila said, "You won't." Her voice was a soft whisper. "The pride and the guardians will help you." Hesitating, she moved closer. "I will too."

Jibade turned to her, his heart in his throat. "Thanks, I appreciate that." He nuzzled her tenderly and purred softly.

She laid her head against his soft mane. "You're welcome."

He didn't speak for a time. They had nuzzled before but not for this long. He swallowed hard. "Nasila," he said, savoring her name. "I love you."

Abruptly, she pulled away from him, stepped back and stared at him in surprise. "You do?"

He sniffed. "Yeah, for a while, actually," the Prince admitted sheepishly. "I know this is a shock. It was for me too when I first realized."

She turned away, bowed her head and ran her tongue over her mouth, trying to swallow the tears that threatened to fall. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, her emotions rose. She would be lying to herself if she said she didn't feel something for him. Nasila sighed deeply and turned back to him with a warm smile, her eyes glistening. Then she slipped her head under his chin, purring gently.

"I love you too, Jibade." How could she not? She had considered such a possibility for nearly a year.

A tear ran down his cheek. He smiled. They stood like that for as long as they could, a gentle breeze coming and stirring through the Prince's mane. It felt good, not just the breeze but revealing their feelings at last.

Then they pulled apart, still smiling at the other and continued to patrol in silence while walking close together. Jibade hoped that this good news would please his father and put aside any fears the King may have buried deep down about the future of the realm.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A redmaned lion walked, his eyes blinking. He fought to catch his breath. He was tired, hungry and very weak. It was taking all of his strength just to lift one leg, put it down on the ground, and do the same with the other three. He licked his dry lips. He was thirsty. He hadn't seen any waterholes for a time.

He knew it was day, however, because of the warmth of the sun and even that was weighing him down. The light of the day hurt his eyes. Oh how he preferred to walk in the night! It was cooler and of course darker. But walking at night was not wise. It was a bad idea. The predators of the night were more dangerous than those of the day. He'd been in a few fights with a rogue or two and managed to survive. He had licked the wounds as cleanly as he could.

He encountered the kind of rogues that had no fight left in them and offered to share their meals with him, however small, and their shelter keep however small. The redmaned lion was grateful to those. Their lives had worn them down; their failures whatever they were evident in their eyes but those were the types whose spirits were still strong and hanging on while the bodies were beginning to weaken. He'd hoped daily that his life would not turn out as theirs did.

He longed for something more: fulfillment, happiness, peace, maybe a bit of joy thrown in. He longed for territory with two options: If he could be King, fine. He would protect his people and everything within the lands though he was not royalty by blood, that is, unless he married into it. The other option was to ask a King – if he found a good land whose royal line was sane: honorable and good in all ways – if he could be a guardian, if he could mark the lands borders no matter how long he was out while the King dealt with the problems of the people. He wanted pridal life, he wanted safety and security.

He wanted to be put to good use. He was nothing out here in the world, not that it was his fault. Everything he'd had before had been taken from him, snatched away and stained in blood. It was just him now and still he told himself in his wanderings, during his hunts for food, searches for water and shelter, even in his fights and talks with those who did not harm him: If I ever see the monster that destroyed my cubhood I will kill him.

Such a promise, a vow, burned in his eyes and it would show. To some of those rogues who did mean him harm dare approach when he had that thought in his mind, that look in his eyes they were dead. Such a thought or whatever he called it, gave him strength, adrenaline and enabled his heart to pump more blood through him. In those moments of fighting he, for a long moment, would feel bloodthirsty.

Sometimes he hungered to just somehow, miraculously, run in to that murderer and have a fight to the death. But it had been too long, about five years at least… wasn't it? He couldn't recall as far as time was concerned. Time meant nothing to him; the events were all that mattered. How he wanted to enact justice to those who lost their lives that fateful day! How he wanted to avenge his birth mother's death and all of his friends! They'd be about his age; they'd have probably had children of their own, he would have too. Their pride would have grown by an increasing number. The very thought of it brought a pained and weak smile to his face. _If only it could have happened,_ he thought.

His stomach growled. He was hungry but where he was there was no game. He would have to wait. He prayed for the strength to be able to. "Where are you leading me, oh Lord?" he asked, his voice tired and strained.

He wanted to rest. He wanted to eat but he knew if he stopped to sleep now he might not wake up. One reason was due to the idea of a bad rogue or another animal, the latter being poisonous or just plain cruel, killing him while he slept. The other was due to malnourishment, which was more than likely. _Or both… both could be a possibility._

A strange smell filled his nose and he raised his head upward, his ears flickering. He sniffed again. There was fresh air. He walked onward and looked down. The grass was green, very green and the sky above clear with a few clouds scattering about. It was a pretty scene, almost peaceful. But he found himself halting. These lands were inhabited. They belong to a King and his pride.

_Must be a good ruler,_ he thought wearily. His head was hurting, he felt dizzy. He wasn't sure if he could take another step.

He swallowed again, wondering how long he'd been traveling since the day he buried his adopted mother who died of an infected shoulder from a bad yet successful hunt. It had been long he was certain. How he missed her too! She had been everything to him, a second mother, a guardian, a caretaker. She had saved him when he would have met certain death otherwise. He'd owed her his life and now she was gone. He missed her company, her stories of a peaceful past and of the sister she had lost to the lion that destroyed their lives.

He'd known that when his blood mother died nothing would ever be the same. His life wasn't and for the last few years he'd been filled with uncertainty, but as long as he had his adopted mother he would be all right. But she had died and he had no one, not that he blamed her for dying and leaving him all alone. It wasn't as though she had a choice. The infection in her shoulder had spread but he was thankful she had died peacefully the way she deserved to unlike her sister who had been slaughtered.

He shook his head. Pain shot through his skull and the rest of his body. He breathed in the air of these strange lands once more. It was a wonderful smell, one he hadn't thought to smell again in his life. But now that he had… He looked around for a moment, admiring the beauty. Despite his great pain he felt he could relax for a moment before the King of these lands showed up or his guardians.

The hurt in his stomach increased and he groaned. His vision grew blurry and he fought to keep his red hazel eyes open. But he couldn't. He tried to raise a foreleg to move forward and succeeded only to collapse on his side, heaving, gasping.

The pain increased and he shut his eyes against it. He blinked a little until darkness closed in and unconsciousness fell over him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bukua walked, his light blue-green colored eyes alert. He sniffed the air. There was nothing odd or suspicious. He sighed deeply, heavily and maybe with a twinge of boredom, which, of course, he was. He was bored. As much as he loved border patrolling and talking with some of the animals who lived on whatever side he 'walked the beat' he wished, just once, that he could take a break and spend time with his mate and their children.

They were growing up so fast, his son Hadhari and beautiful daughters Nasila and Johari. There were times when he felt as though he was missing out on their lives, not that there was much to miss these days. From the moment he and Ajia had talked to their three children about their futures they learned there'd been no need. They had already made their decisions; they were going to become guardians.

"But I'll hunt now and again," said their last child and second daughter, Johari. Bukua remembered that her ears had gone back at her admission. She'd raised a paw after that. "Mom, Dad," she said, staring at them, "please don't misunderstand. I love you both and I love being a guardian, but I am one of the only few younger lionesses in the whole pride. Some females on the hunting party are getting older and they're going to need someone younger to fill at least one of their positions."

Her parents didn't disagree. If anything it looked and sounded as though Johari had thought this out. Nasila spoke after this and Bukua and Ajia weren't surprised to hear the same thing from her. It only made them more proud and they knew that they had done right by their children.

Bukua was drawn out of his thoughts by the voice of his son. His ear flickered and he turned to the younger version of himself who was talking with a few hippos that were bathing in a medium sized waterhole, Hadhari standing in front of them but at a respectful distance. He studied his only son. The only subtle differences between himself and Hadhari was that the young lion's pelt was several shades lighter than his own, and his mane color was a few shades lighter, so was his nose. His forepaws, back paws, muzzle, chest, underbelly and eye patches were a very light brownish sandy color.

Bukua couldn't help but smile and shake his head a little. The only thing his son seemed to inherit from him was his eyes. _He certainly didn't inherit my behavior,_ he thought to himself sadly. As much as he loved Hadhari he wished he didn't live up to the current meaning of his name. There were several other meanings he and Ajia could have made sure he lived up to. Then again, it wasn't their fault.

Not really, Bukua hoped. It was clear that Hadhari had chosen to use the name 'caution' in order to fulfill the meaning of his name. "But he's doing it in all the wrong ways," the lion muttered softly.

Hadhari was a lion of caution, perhaps too much. True, he wanted everyone safe, but he didn't give them enough reason to feel safe. Bukua's ears went back and his gaze fell to the grass in front of him. He could feel tears in his eyes. "No wonder Johari prefers to be with me or her mother, or Princess Mpenzi. And Nasila… she also prefers me or her mother." But there was another that his eldest daughter preferred to spend time with and it brought a smile to his face, despite the hurt of his son's attitude. "Prince Jibade… a good lion, an honorable lion like his father and grandfather…"

Idly he wondered how King Dhoruba was. He hadn't seen him earlier and really hadn't had a chance to speak to him in the last few days. He'd heard, with confidence and through Nasila, that the King was doing his best to combat his strange dreams through the Shaman's sleeping herbs. He pawed the grass and silently prayed.

"Father…"

Bukua jolted and he turned to his son who was looking at him strangely. "Oh, Hadhari, don't scare me like that."

"I thought it was impossible to scare a well-trained guardian," his son said slyly.

Bukua rolled his eyes. "I'm not just any trained guardian, son, I'm your father."

They started walking and Bukua asked if the hippos had any news of rogue sightings. Hadhari shook his head. "No. According to them everything is fine."

"Do you believe them?"

The young lion shrugged. "They're hippos and they spend most of their time in the water, maybe more so than the elephants. Who knows? They'll probably say anything."

Bukua didn't nod in agreement but he didn't shake his head to disagree either. After seven years of living and about six years as a guardian he still wasn't sure what to make of hippos. They were a mystery to him. _But then,_ he thought, _aren't we all a mystery to ourselves in some way or another?_ His whiskers twitched again and out of the corner of his eye he saw his son stop and raise his head. His eyes were alert and he moved his head from left to right slowly.

"What is it, Hadhari?"

"We may have an intruder, Father," said the young guard, his voice cold.

Bukua was aware of the sudden change in his son. He didn't like it. He wanted to say something, to tell his son not to take it too seriously, that even if there was an intruder he or she could be harmless… But then, the intruder, he or she, _couldn't_ be harmless, the opposite. Encountering a malicious rogue was rare, so rare in fact Bukua had the nerve to think everyone good. He shook his head. _There are animals who are bad, who mean to harm…_ _Balance, Hadhari, you must learn to balance your emotions and your guardian behavior._ _Not everyone is out to harm us…_

"Do you smell a scent?" his father asked.

Hadhari sniffed the air. "Yes, it's this way." He started running.

"Hadhari, wait!" Bukua called but his son wasn't listening. He didn't even stop to turn around. Bukua groaned. His son rarely listened. He'd act before thinking. "Hadhari, stop!" the older guard shouted.

Suddenly, without warning Hadhari did stop and Bukua was able to prevent himself from slamming into him. "What have I told you?" Bukua yelled fiercely, his eyes ablaze with anger. "You wait for a moment, sniff again, then _walk_ to where you smell the scent and upon seeing the intruder, first from a distance, you walk up a little further and give the guardian call!" Bukua snarled at his son. He had never been this angry before.

Hadhari panted. "I-I'm sorry, Father."

"No! Do not be sorry, Hadhari. You had no business going off like that."

"I'm a grown lion, Dad; I can take care of myself."

"That may be true, but you are my son, and I will not have you running off into danger and ignoring everything I taught you, understand?"

"Yes, Father," Hadhari said stiffly.

Bukua snorted a little and sniffed the air. There was a strange scent. He waited a moment before speaking again. His temper had to cool first. "The scent is this way," he said with a calm but still angry voice. He walked, Hadhari beside him. Then he stopped. Before he could speak or roar he noticed something in the grass. It was foreign, certainly not of the pride. He growled and flashed a look to Hadhari, warning him not to move or speak. "Let me handle this," he said.

His son nodded.

He turned back, staring at the form in the grass. Hopefully Hadhari would learn how a guardian does it. "You there!" the lion bellowed, "who are you?" He waited. There was no response. "I am a guardian of King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha of the Western Plains. I command you to identify yourself!" His heart pounded under the words. He hadn't had to use them in a long time; it felt odd, but good.

His eyes caught movement and he knew Hadhari wanted to rush forward. He raised a paw and stepped in front of his son. "No," he hissed without turning his head. Then he sprinted, caution in his eyes and his steps.

When he approached the form he was shocked. It was a lion, clearly passed out. His sides weren't moving. His coat was dirty, his mane too. How long had he been here? He needed shelter, food; he had been a rogue too long by the looks of him. Bottom line: He needed help.

"Hadhari," Bukua said, finally turning to his son, his eyes intent. "Come here."

The young lion did, but with heavy reluctance, hesitation and extreme caution.

"Help me. We're taking this lion home."

Hadhari's mouth dropped, his eyes flashed. "What? Father you can't be serious."

"I am serious. This lion needs help and as guardians we are trained to defend the weak, and this lion is such. Look at him, he's unconscious."

"He's a rogue, Father. For all we know this could just be a trick to make us think he does need help and then when we're asleep he'll kill our King, our Heir, then you and me."

Now it was Bukua's turn for his eyes to flash in anger. "That's enough, Hadhari. I don't want to hear anymore from you. Do I need to remind that it was me who found our current King in the state that this lion is in now? Why he looks to be about your age, although with what he's gone through out there in the world without a pride he might a little older than you by a year. I'm not sure and I don't care. Are you going to help me or not?"

Hadhari groaned then gave a firm nod.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba walked home beside his Queen, feeling refreshed and at peace. He had been able to meet with the animal representatives and, with Kesha at his side, come to a solution to nearly all of their problems. He felt alive, he felt free. Ibada's latest sleeping herbs were helping, though it had been a few days since he had consumed them.

But they were working; he was able to get a full night's sleep and go to work with his advisor the next morning. If he could get through the rest of the days feeling the way he was at the moment there was hope. _And hope is what I need. It's a good release…_

Kesha glanced at him in concern. She nudged him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He turned to her and nodded. "I'm fine." Then he nuzzled her, purring. "Thank you for coming with me." He licked her cheek.

"You're welcome, but you don't have to thank me all the time."

He pulled away a smile on his face. "I know but I want you to know how much I appreciate it."

She walked closer to him, her head on his mane. "Anytime, my love…"

He closed his eyes, savoring the words. He always loved hearing them.

When they approached the caves the lionesses were there, including the hunting party with the catches of the day.

Before they could join their pride a lioness came forward, bowing. "Your majesties, there is an urgent matter that Bukua needs to speak with both of you about."

"Did he say what?" asked Dhoruba.

"No, my King, all he said was that it required your attention."

The King smiled at her. "Thank you. Her Majesty and I will go and see. Meanwhile, you and the rest of the pride eat of the kill."

The lioness looked surprised but she bowed her head in respect and returned to her pride sisters.

Dhoruba turned to Kesha with a half smile. "It never ends," he said with a small chuckle.

She smiled back and they made their way to the den but not before looking at their son, giving one nod, knowing he would know what it meant. They paused at the entrance and watched as their son told the pride they could eat. Then they entered the den and walked to the back, seeing the brown guard who stood in front of a back chamber.

He bowed. "My King and Queen, as I'm sure you were told, I wanted to speak with you."

"Yes," said Kesha, "what about?"

They were told and both listened to their guardian and friend intently. "… I didn't know what else to do," Bukua continued. "Your Majesties, I just couldn't leave him there." He stared at Dhoruba. "I did not leave you, did I, sire? I was raised and trained to serve and protect."

King Dhoruba smiled and head-butted his friend. "Yes, you were, and you did the right thing. The Queen and I will go in and examine this stranger and we will come to a decision. You may go outside and eat with your family."

Bukua bowed and left.

When Dhoruba and Kesha walked into the chamber memories flashed through their minds. They had been here before, years ago, when that same guardian found Dhoruba and it was Kesha who stayed with him until he got back on his feet.

Looking at the unconscious lion now, eyeing his dirty light tan gold pelt and disheveled red mane up and down, Kesha felt the presence of her late father King Amri doing the same thing to Dhoruba. It was strange how life worked, how history could repeat itself.

The Queen's ears flickered and she glanced at her husband. She licked her lips. "What do you think, Dhoruba?"

The King sighed deeply. He knew what he had to do: what Amri had done for him, what Amri had taught him to do. He would follow in his father-in-law's pawprints. He would do right. He turned to his wife, his gray eyes soft and tender. "Kesha, what do you think?" The question, much like his eyes, was also soft.

She turned back to the stranger, remembering that Dhoruba had been in a similar position and had found a real home for the first time. "I think… we should let him stay. He needs shelter, a refuge." She nuzzled him. "You did once."

He smiled and tears came to his eyes. He nuzzled her back. "Yes, and look how it turned out. Your father never turned those in need away. I would be staining his memory if I did otherwise. So…" He sighed, his heart beating, but his expression was sure. He looked down on the redmaned lion again and for a moment he saw himself the way he had been when he had come in like manner.

"He stays," said the King with a firm, strong voice.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **If anyone is out there, words cannot express how sorry I am for the extremely long wait. I found myself suffering a huge amount of writer's block. Not only that, but life came about and sucked out all my inspiration and motivation. Hopefully things will settle down now, but as a writer, I cannot make such a promise that such a thing will happen. I do however promise that I will do all I can – with God's help – to update a little more frequently.

If anyone is out there, I thank you for your patience and hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Chapter 8**

Queen Kesha could not have been prouder of her husband as she was in that moment while they stared at this strange, injured rogue lion together. The lessons he'd been given by her late father never failed. Dhoruba had been a teachable student, and with his actions as King he put those lessons into practice constantly.

She'd heard his words, "He stays," and couldn't help but smile to herself. Like her beloved father he was accepting a needy lion into their pride. And when this stranger woke up she and Dhoruba would tell him that neither they nor their pride would harm him. That he could stay as long as he needed to and move on. But if he had no place to go, as was the case with Dhoruba himself so long ago… then he would have a permanent place in the Western Plains among the lion pride if he wanted it.

She looked at Dhoruba. "Shall we tell the pride?" Her voice was soft, like a whisper.

Dhoruba jerked. He had been staring at the unconscious lion because seeing him in such a state reminded Dhoruba of him. It was like looking into the water and seeing his reflection but in a whole new and near frightening way. What sort of tragedies had this lion suffered? Did he have a traumatic past? When the stranger woke up, he would find out, but until then…

He turned to Kesha and nodded quickly. "Yes. Let's go."

They left the chamber and the main den side-by-side just as they entered. Then they stepped out into the light of the sinking afternoon sun and walked to the front of their assembled still eating pride.

One roar from Kesha grabbed their attention. He let her speak first. He wasn't sure he could.

"As I'm sure you all noticed earlier this afternoon," the Queen began. "Bukua and his son brought to our caves on their own backs an unconscious redmaned lion. When King Dhoruba and I examined him, seeing the condition he was in, we have decided that this lion, whoever he is, shall stay with us in the Western Plains until he is well."

Dhoruba gave his mate a grateful smile while the pride muttered to each other. Prince Jibade and his sister turned to their parents questioningly but not objectively. Not that the King could see in their eyes at least.

The chatter died down and a lioness in front cleared her throat to speak to her sovereigns. "Is the lion dangerous?" she asked.

The rulers exchanged glances. They were both relieved that question had been asked first. Kesha looked at her. She was an older lioness, one who was only a cub when Kesha's grandfather was King. She grew up under his leadership and watched his son, Kesha's father take his place as King of the Western Plains. "King Dhoruba and I do not believe he poses a threat. As I said, he came here unconscious and it was apparent that he hadn't eaten in days. His Majesty and I will know more once he awakens and has something to eat. So, please, be sure to save some meat for him."

The lioness nodded as did a few of her pride sisters. Some didn't and Kesha couldn't blame them. They hadn't had the appearance of an unconscious rogue in the kingdom, let alone the pride, for several years. The last was the lion that stood beside their Queen. Dhoruba had been a rogue before he married King Amri's heiress and became King himself.

If this new lion stayed, what would his position be? They didn't know anything about him! What if he was bloodthirsty? What if he killed Dhoruba and took the Western Plains throne for himself? As much as they were antsy, they would trust their leaders. They had to. Though this situation had been a first for some of them… Then again, it had been a first for the late King Amri too and he'd been the kind of lion one could speak to, listen to and be changed by whatever he had to say. Did his daughter have that kind of gift or presence? Did her mate who, in his own way, had been like a second son to the last King?

Another lioness in front of the assembled felines looked to Dhoruba and Kesha, her eyes firm but kind, her expression the same. Her whiskers twitched, her tail swished softly behind her. "Your Majesties, you have led us with all the standards of past rulers before you. I know for a fact that Bukua and his son would not have brought this lion to us, to you, if he was not in a bad situation. The Western Plains were founded by a King who desired peace, justice, and mercy for anyone who needed it." Her eyes fell to Dhoruba and she bowed her head slightly with a gentle, almost mother-loving smile.

Dhoruba returned it. In fact, this lioness was old enough to be his mother.

"If I may speak for all of us…" She paused and turned her eyes to the lions and lionesses behind her. No one spoke or objected. She continued, turning her head back to the rulers. "I speak for us when I say that you are wise and have always worked for our good, for your pride and your family. Any lion that is in the shape our guest is in clearly has no place to go, nowhere to call home, perhaps no family. If you wish him to stay, who are we to tell you otherwise?" She turned fully to the pride again, her back facing the King and Queen. "You all know that if it was any one of us in that chamber in the cave, Dhoruba and Kesha would give shelter and food to us, a stranger, or a few injured strangers they had never met, because those are the kind leaders they are."

Her words received agreed murmurs or mumbles and soft responses, but nearly everyone nodded their heads. Bukua's family was among them, except his son Hadhari who had a sharp, stern expression on his face. The leader of the guardians noticed his son's look and snarled softly in his direction.

Dhoruba and Kesha looked at each other again and Dhoruba addressed the pride. "Then you all wish that our guest stays here until he is healthy?"

Nods were seen and words of approval were heard. "Very well," said the King, "our guest shall stay. Queen Kesha and I will bless the kill and we shall eat."

When the prayer was finished, as custom, Dhoruba and Kesha took their pieces of the kill followed by their son and daughter. The royal family was followed by the guardians and finally the lionesses. Everyone was settled, and chatter filled the area.

As Dhoruba ate some of his piece of meat he knew the right decision had been made. He wondered about the stranger. Did he have a painful past he had to escape? Did his rogue parents die, leaving him all alone with no siblings? He would soon find out. They all would. He looked to his children and spoke. "Jibade, Mpenzi, I would like you to do me a big favor?" he asked.

The Prince and Princess eyed each other and then looked at their father. "We will do whatever you ask," said Jibade.

Dhoruba sighed deeply, prayed inwardly, and began. "Our guest can't be more than a few years older than you and Mpenzi. Wherever he's from I imagine it has been a long time since he's been around any lions and lionesses no matter their age. When he wakes up and begins regaining his lost strength, I would like both of you to treat him with kindness and respect, and I would like one of you or both to show him around the Western Plains. It may be a while before he decides where he wants to go but I need him to know that there is sanctuary for him here. We have more than enough room, the lands are plentiful." The King's ears tipped back and his expression fell. "I was where he is now. I know what he'll go through in the days to come, so I do not want him to be treated with any sort of animosity." He eyed his son and daughter intently. "Can you do this?"

Jibade was the first to speak. "Father, as Prince of the Western Plains and the Heir, you have taught me that it is my duty to care for my subjects, whether I know them well or not. As such, I will treat this stranger with mercy and compassion. That is the way of Rahimu."

"And as Princess of the Western Plains, I will too," said Mpenzi with a firm nod.

Dhoruba smiled. "Thank you, both of you. I am very pleased to hear that."

Jibade smirked. "You taught us well, Father," he said. Mpenzi agreed with another nod.

The King and Queen smiled to each other and dug in to their respective meals.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Everyone heard King Dhoruba's words and found no reason to disagree with him. He was their leader; they had to trust him and his judgment. Plus, he was speaking from personal experience. He had been where their guest was. He'd been a rogue before being accepted into the Western Plains by King Amri. Would this strange lion be accepted?

These questions and others ran through each of the pride members' minds, including the guardians.

As Bukua chewed on his meat, his eyes going from the royal family, to some pride members scattered about, to his own lovely mate and daughters, his ears flickered to the voice of his stubborn and overly cautious son.

"The King's not serious, is he?"

Bukua braced himself. He knew his son would have something negative to say. He turned eyes to this young version of him. _There's a difference between me and my son,_ he thought to himself. _A huge difference…_ "Hadhari," Bukua said in a strong, measured voice. "Don't. The King has already made his decision. We do not question it."

The young lion's light sea green eyes locked with those of his father. They snapped and he let out a huff. "He's going to let a rogue lion stay in our kingdom, our den?"

"He is the King, Hadhari," said Ajia, who was normally quiet during the evening. "The lion you and your father found needs shelter."

"He could be a danger," her son stressed.

"We don't know that and until we know otherwise, he stays. The King wishes it."

"Hadhari," said Nasila who lay beside her mother. "If you don't want to talk to this lion when he wakes up, you don't have to."

"Believe me, sister, I won't," the young guard replied and he tore into the flesh of his meat.

The youngest of Bukua and Ajia's litter was solemn, and like her mother, quiet. She agreed with the King and his words, but her mind was on the stranger unconscious in the pride's den, in one of its chambers. She wondered if he could be awake now. And if he was could she leave to check without anyone noticing or would her disappearance to do so prove her brother's thoughts that the lion was dangerous?

Her ears tipped back as thoughts raced through her mind. Her father and brother found the lion passed out. Her father said that it looked as though the lion hadn't eaten in a long time and the Queen said the same. Even if there were some strength left in him he wouldn't be able to pin her down and attack her.

Johari looked down at the piece of meat between her paws. She had eaten very little, a rare thing for her. She wasn't sure she could consume anymore. She hadn't even seen the stranger, save for a glimpse of him across her father and brother's backs as they walked into the caves, and she wasn't sure she could wait until he appeared before the pride beside the King and Queen for an almost up close look.

Something about this stranger captivated her. Was it the way he had come, much like her King? Was she drawn to this stranger in the same way Queen Kesha had been drawn to His Majesty? She knew all about that, as did her brother and sister. Prince Jibade and Princess Mpenzi knew how their parents met. The shaman Ibada once said that history had a way of repeating itself, that it was like a circle. But King Dhoruba came to the Western Plains seven seasons ago! Did history have a pattern of repeating so closely after an event, let alone one like this?

She heard someone speak her name. "Johari…"

She startled. Her heart pounded as she faced the owner of the voice, her mother. "Yes?" she asked, slightly dazed.

"Are you alright, sweetheart," wondered Ajia, her head tilted in confusion.

Her second daughter, knowing she could tell no one her thoughts about the rogue, nodded. "I'm fine," she said with a small smile. But even as she ate her thoughts went back to that strange rogue lion in the pride's cave. A part of her hoped he wouldn't wake up in such a strange place by himself.

For some reason she wanted her face to be the first thing he saw.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Night approached and the pride retired to the den. The royal family followed some time later, as did the guardians. The King, his mate, the guard leader and his mate talked after the evening meal. Their children did the same. Dhoruba and Kesha thanked Bukua for his continued and steadfast service to which the guardian bowed his head deeply and thanked his sovereigns. Ajia nuzzled him lovingly and whispered how proud she was of him for doing the right thing.

Behind the adults the younger generation lingered. Prince Jibade cast a firm stern look on his friend and like-brother Hadhari. He and Mpenzi learned of their friend's dislike over the King's decision to let the stranger stay in the pride. Hadhari's words caused worry to fill the Prince's mind. He had no idea such caution and maybe even paranoia existed in the only son of Bukua and Ajia. Hadhari and his sisters had been raised and taught of Rahimu and His ways just as Jibade and Mpenzi were by their parents. How was it that four of them expressed and believed so deeply but not Hadhari? Jibade shook his head. He didn't have the answer, believed no one did, not even Hadhari's parents. But hearing such words of distrust, disdain, Jibade made a silent vow to keep his promise to his father and he would watch over Hadhari.

As if sensing something was wrong, Nasila moved up to Jibade and walked beside him, giving him a soft smile. He returned it and nuzzled her cheek.

The gesture of affection between his sister and the Prince made Hadhari scoff. If it weren't for this situation with a rogue staying among their pride, in their lands, he would be happy for Nasila and Jibade. But Jibade was for this stranger's appearance in the realm, so was Nasila, Mpenzi and Johari. Everyone was for it because they put their trust in a higher authority, one greater than the King's. Hadhari believed with all his heart that this rogue posed some kind of danger.

_If Mother and Father aren't going to do their jobs, I will have to do it,_ he thought to himself as the five of them entered the den, making their way around and over the sleeping lionesses.

Hadhari watched the King and Queen enter the royal chambers, Mpenzi not far behind them. Looking a little to the left he saw his parents go into their chamber. Johari followed. Then, looking ahead a little, he saw Jibade and Nasila. He turned his head away and slowly began to walk to the guardian cave.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nasila noticed her brother's movement and breathed a sigh of relief when she turned back to Jibade. It came as no surprise to her to see that he too had watched.

"I've seen him be cautious in the past but never like this. The poor lion was passed out," said the Prince with a shake of his head.

Nasila nodded. "I know. I'm worried, Jibade. When the stranger wakes up I fear Hadhari might try something, threaten him in some way."

"If you want, I'll keep an eye on him."

She stared. "Jibade, I couldn't ask you to –"

"You're not. I'm volunteering. I love Hadhari like a brother, Nasila," he said, his voice soft. "You know that, but I won't let him harm a lion he doesn't know because he thinks he poses a threat."

She laid her head on his shoulder, his mane caressing the side of her face and the top of her head. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

The Prince quietly purred. "You're welcome. Sleep well, okay? I love you."

Nasila shut her eyes for a moment as she savored those sweet and meaningful words. "You do the same, Jibade. I love you too."

They pulled apart, nuzzled briefly, and departed to their families' chambers.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When Johari settled down at her spot in her parents' chamber to sleep she told herself she wouldn't fall to fatigue and tiredness so deeply. She wasn't even sure how she would leave the chamber without her brother or sister waking up and stopping her. She was determined not to let them. They had no idea what was going through her mind or how this stranger had impacted her so much without ever seeing her or saying a word to her.

So when she lay in her spot she forced her body to relax. She was sleeping, yet she wasn't. She was waiting for the right time to get up and leave.

How much time passed she did not know, but before she could feel her body surrender to deep sleep she opened her eyes and looked around. Then she raised her head, turning to the left and then to the right. Her parents, brother and sister were asleep. She could slip out unnoticed. Johari got to her feet, shook her head and slowly stepped forward to the cave's entrance.

One slow step was followed by another, then another and another, but with every step she looked back to see if one of her family stirred awake. No one did and when she was halfway out of the cave she looked back just to be sure. No one moved. They were still asleep.

Johari breathed a soft sigh of relief and continued on her way. She knew where the chamber was and stepped over and around a few lionesses to get to it. When she reached it she poked her head inside, looking around. The stranger was on the floor, on his side. Had he moved at all? She entered carefully and quietly. She approached the still unconscious lion in the same manner until she was at the front of him. Then she lay down, watching him.

Even in the darkness she could see the color of his body, his main pelt. It was a light golden tan and his mane was red, light medium if her eyes were correct. She wouldn't know what color his eyes were until he opened them. Until then she would stay with him. She had to, wanted to. If he had no one… and since he was found alone he didn't. She had no idea what that was like, didn't want to.

Compassion and deep sympathy for this lion and whatever he been through filled her, and as much as she didn't want to she felt her eyes grow heavy. She put her head down on her paws and closed her eyes.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The redmaned lion slowly opened his eyes only to see nothing but darkness. He expected himself to be dead, but this wasn't the other side. He looked down at the ground. It was hard, solid… _Like a rock,_ he thought to himself. _Like…_ Then it struck him. He was in some kind of cave. He looked around, confused. _But how did –?_ He struggled to remember the last thing he had done.

He'd been walking on healthy green grass, smelled air so fresh, so sweet he wasn't sure if it was real. Peace had run through him when he first set paw and looked around, but caution was quick to follow, telling him that the lands were taken. He'd considered taking a moment to relish the beauty before him. Oh how magnificent it was! He was about to leave, but he was also going to take one more step forward into these lands. Pain filled his stomach, his body. It still did, but not as much. He remembered his vision had grown blurry and he collapsed, heaving and gasping for breath. He couldn't remember keeping his eyes open but darkness had closed in, sending him into unconsciousness… until now. Now he was awake.

Had someone found him and taken him to this cave? _Someone from this kingdom helped me,_ he wondered. _Why? I'm a rogue. What sort of kingdom is this?_ He tried to rise but pain shot through his limbs. He hissed softly and slowly lowered himself back to the ground, biting his tongue as he did. Thoughts invaded his mind. He knew leaving would be a bad idea. If the one who brought him here was the King he couldn't leave without thanking him, but the pain in his body would keep him here for a day or longer.

_Is that a bad thing,_ he asked himself. _It's been so long since I've been in a kingdom. Wherever I am, whatever this pride, assuming it is a pride, is like they must not be all bad to bring a strange lion like me, a rogue, into their midst._

In the darkness of the chamber he saw a form lying on the ground not too far from him. Confused, curious and cautious he stretched out a foreleg to touch… _A paw…_ He swallowed and forced his eyes to focus. The figure wasn't a lion, there was no mane. _A lioness… sent here to guard me probably._ He was tired, but if this female was here to keep an eye on him he had to make sure she didn't do something stupid.

"Like kill me in my sleep," he said to himself quietly and softly. "I need to make sure I can trust her before I go back to sleep." Carefully he unsheathed his claws and pawed her foreleg. When he noticed her stirring from sleep he moved his foreleg back and retracted his claws. The female raised her head and opened her eyes. He was astonished by the look, the color, the depth. Her eyes were beautiful. She spoke in a quiet still tired voice.

"You're awake," she said, studying him.

_Pretty voice to add to beautiful eyes,_ he thought. "Yes, for a small while now. Please, if you could tell me… Where am I?"

"You're in the kingdom of the Western Plains," said the lioness cautiously. "Our current leaders are King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha and it is because them you are allowed to stay and recover." She wanted to add 'until you decide where you want to go' but didn't. Something in her couldn't bear the thought of this lion leaving. There were so few lions her age as it was, only two, her brother and the Prince who was in love with her sister. That was fine with Johari. She was happy for Nasila. Her sister deserved someone like Prince Jibade.

The redmaned lion nodded slowly, musingly. _These rulers must be something to have a stranger stay. They don't know a thing about me!_ He swallowed. "I am grateful to your rulers, uh… May I ask your name?"

The lioness's mouth dropped. "Oh, forgive me! Where are my manners? My name is Johari, daughter of the Western Plains guardians."

Despite the pain, he smiled and dipped his head which caused more pain to fill his head and neck. "Nice to meet you Johari, my name is Akanni."

"Hello, Akanni."

"Who found me?"

"My father and brother did."

"Why? I'm a rogue. They would've considered me a threat, passed out or otherwise."

She met his eyes. Now that they were open she noticed that they were red, kind looking. "That's just it, Akanni. You _were_ passed out. According to my father – who is not the type to lie – you looked as though you hadn't eaten in a long time."

He turned his head and said, "I was a sight, huh?"

"Not in a bad way. You… You looked like you needed help."

"Your father and brother were just following orders, it seems."

She nodded. "The Western Plains has a long standing belief of helping others."

"Even passed out rogues on your borders?" He turned to face her. Their gazes locked.

Johari nodded again. "Yes, even then."

Akanni studied the ground in front of him. "You wouldn't do such a thing unless… unless you believe in Rahimu, the Lord of creation."

"We do. The Western Plains was founded on belief in Him. It is said that our first King was led away from his pride to find this kingdom. The first pride here was one he started. They each came from different prides too."

"I was born in a pride. But everyone died, including my mother. One of the pridal lionesses took me in and raised me like her own. She too died only recently. I'm the last." _That is, unless that murderer is still out there,_ he thought angrily.

In a sudden moment of compassion she reached out with a paw to touch his. He didn't move. "I'm so sorry, Akanni," she said meaningfully.

"It's okay. I've accepted it. She's with Rahimu now, her sister and my mother."

Johari was silent for a little while and then yawned, much to her annoyance.

Akanni noticed. He felt himself beginning to tire so he said, "I imagine that the King and Queen will be seeing me tomorrow."

"I believe so, yes."

"Then we should rest. Thank you for looking after me, Johari."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

"Are you a guardian like your father and brother?"

"No. I'm here of my own free will."

"Ah. So they don't know, huh?"

"No, and there's a chance someone will lecture me on leaving the chamber."

Akanni flexed his paws. "Well, now that I'm awake you can return. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

"I appreciate that, Akanni, but I can handle it."

She was determined the lion noticed, and willing. "Okay," he replied, hoping she wouldn't suffer a reprimand from her father or the King. They'd only known each other for a short while anyway. Plus, he didn't want anything bad to befall her because of him and he wasn't even a member of the pride! He was nothing more than a guest who, for all he knew, would be asked to leave the moment he was healthy again. He looked down for a moment and then back to her. "Sleep well, Johari," he said with a soft smile as he laid his head down his paws.

The lioness did the same. "Goodnight, Akanni."

"Night," he said and closed his eyes. His body hurt but his mind felt relaxed. _Lord Rahimu,_ he prayed, _Shabihi once told me that your ways are different from our own. That you work for our good. Is being in the Western Plains for my good?_ After meeting Johari and talking with her something told him that it was for his good. _Rahimu, thank you…_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bukua woke to find no one in the chamber. He yawned and rose to his paws, stretching out his forelimbs and arching his back. He shook his mane and looked around again to make sure he wasn't dreaming. His mate wasn't beside him and their children weren't in their respective spots to the back. His whiskers twitched as he walked out of the chamber only to be greeted by a few lionesses in the main den talking. As he stepped to the entrance to see if his family was outside his ears perked up, catching small bits of the females' conversation.

"What do you think the shaman will find?"

"I don't think he'll find anything. He'll just look the lion over, give some kind of medicine for his wounds if he has any, and then be on his way."

_So, Ibada's here,_ the guardian thought. He wanted to go into the chamber he had put the strange lion in but he had to see to his family first. The lionesses noticed him and smiled. He returned the gestures and left the main den, stepping out into the morning light which he shut his eyes against for a short moment.

"Good morning, Father," said a voice.

Bukua opened his eyes to see his eldest daughter come toward him with a smile. "Morning, Nasila," he replied then looked about. "Where's your mother?"

"She's with Queen Kesha at one of the near waterholes."

"What about Hadhari?"

"He's with Jibade. I mean, Prince Jibade."

Bukua noticed the small slip up and managed to barely conceal a smile. He knew how close his daughter was with the Western Plains' heir. He didn't mind. Jibade was an honorable lion who would never lay a paw on anyone, especially Nasila.

"I heard that Shaman Ibada is here. When did he –"

"He arrived early this morning Father, on the back of the King himself."

"Has King Dhoruba summoned your mother and I to patrol?"

"Not to my knowledge he hasn't. He might give you the day off after yesterday."

The notion struck Bukua as odd, but King Amri had given him a day off after he found Dhoruba. "Now that you mention it, I could use one, not to mention your mother and Hadhari. Speaking of your siblings, where is Johari?"

Nasila's ears went back and she pawed the ground. She seemed hesitant to speak, afraid even. She gave a silent thanks to Rahimu that she had been able to leave the chamber early that morning before the rest of her family woke up.

"If I tell you, promise you won't be mad?" she asked, her voice sounding like that of a cub.

"Why would I be? Is something wrong?"

"Johari stayed with the stranger last night. I… I woke earlier than usual, saw she wasn't in her spot and left to look for her. I found her in the spare chamber with the lion. They were sleeping, face to face. I woke Johari, motioned for her to come with me and we started talking. She told me that this lion, whose name is Akanni, doesn't want any trouble and is grateful to the two guardians who brought him here."

Her father sat in the grass. "I see and why did your sister stay with this Akanni?"

She looked down. "Father… I think Johari should be the one to tell you that."

"You're right, and she will. I'm… surprised at her."

"Not mad?"

"No, just… curious is all… Does Hadhari know?"

At that, Nasila's head snapped up. "If he did, Father… he'd drag her out of the chamber clawing, kicking and possibly screaming."

Such words brought a tremor to Bukua's body but after the way his son disobeyed him and argued with him the previous day… The look of caution, possible anger in his eyes… His son was more than a lion of caution.

"Is Johari still in the spare chamber with Akanni?"

"Yes, as is the King and the shaman."

"Have you introduced yourself to him?"

She nodded. "Yes. So have Mother and the royal family."

"What about Hadhari?" As soon as the question left his mouth, Bukua worried about the answer.

"No. He just stared coldly and left."

Bukua closed his eyes in disappointment. He wanted to find his son and give him a good cuffing. "Then its time I introduce myself. Care to come with me?"

Nasila smiled kindly. "Thank you, Father, but no. Princess Mpenzi wishes to talk to me about something."

"Ahh, and where is the Princess?"

"She's sunbathing on the rocks just to the south of here."

Father and daughter gently nuzzled and Bukua watched her go. He moved toward the den and stepped inside, soon making his way to the spare chamber. He peeked inside and clawed the ground, giving a soft gentle growl.

"Who is it?" asked the voice of King Dhoruba.

"It's me, Your Majesty, Bukua."

"Come in."

So the guardian stepped in and received a warm smile from the King. The shaman looked up from his work and dipped his head. The young lion with a red mane watched the monkey wrap large leaves around both forelegs and one on the back. He'd been told that the three limbs had been sprained and would take time to heal. He was malnourished and instructed to eat as soon as possible. But Ibada wasn't the only one the lion was watching.

Bukua looked to his daughter who had given him a loving smile only to put her gaze back on the stranger whose eyes were also on her. If Bukua were any other lion – if he were like his son – he would feel as though his second daughter was being threatened and lusted upon, but the exchange between these two was not harmful in the least. What happened in here between his daughter and this rogue? Was it as Nasila had been told to by Johari? Had they just talked? What harm could an injured rogue to do a lioness? To Bukua this lion wasn't a threat, but lost. Lost and in need of a home, maybe even a pride. An important question went through his mind. What made Johari come here?

He felt like he was reliving events from several years earlier. King Dhoruba had gone through what this lion was going through now. Just as Queen Kesha – a Princess then – had watched over the lion who would become her mate, Bukua's own daughter had done the same. Would she pledge herself to this lion? He chided himself. No. He was thinking too far ahead. The lion just got here!

He turned his eyes back to his daughter when he heard her speak. "Akanni, this is my father Bukua, one of the guardians of the Western Plains. Father, this is Akanni."

The redmaned lion looked up at the older male, dipping his head. "It's an honor to meet you, Bukua. Thank you for saving my life."

The medium dark brown maned lion smiled. "All part of my duty, Akanni. I'm glad you're awake."

"It's good to be so, sir."

He was polite. _A common thing in a rogue,_ he thought, remembering he'd had the same thoughts about his current King so long ago. _History is a funny thing._

The shaman stood up, rubbing his hands together. "All right, Akanni, your bandages are in place and they shouldn't prevent you from walking. If you have any pain, let the King know and he will send for me." He paused and put a hand on the lion's back. "Be thankful to Rahimu that He sent Bukua and his son when He did. If He had not it's possible you would have died on the borders."

The lion stared at him. "I thought I was going to."

"But you didn't," said the monkey with a sparkle in his eyes. "Rahimu saved you for a purpose, led you here for a reason."

"Maybe He did," he said and once again his eyes met those of Johari's. She didn't turn her face away but smiled softly at him.

"Take care of yourself. You're in good care with this pride." Ibada gave one last smile, nodded to the young lioness and moved toward the King. He spoke to the sovereign in a whisper. "And you, my King, are you okay?"

Dhoruba whispered back. "I'm well, thank you."

"If you need more herbs," Ibada started, putting a hand on the lion's shoulder.

"I'll come."

When the shaman left Dhoruba faced their guest. "Akanni, follow me and I'll take you to a waterhole."

The lion slowly rose to his paws and stood as still as possible, taking a moment to gain his balance. Then he moved forward, one step at a time. Johari was beside him so he could lean on her in case he fell. He looked at her gratefully. She'd only stepped out once to talk to her sister whom Akanni considered to be a lioness of wisdom, trust and chance. When Akanni was certain he would be okay to walk on his own, he stared at Johari again.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

Now he was in front of the King and the two lions left the chamber. Only Bukua and his daughter remained. They looked at each other, silent. Then Johari pawed the ground. "Nasila told you, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did, and no, I'm not angry. Concerned, yes, but not angry."

"I can't explain this, Father. I feel… drawn to him."

He smiled. "And I can't say I'm surprised. It's not every day I, or your brother and I find an unconscious rogue on the borders."

She laughed a little. "He's a good lion who has been through a lot."

"We can only imagine."

"Father… you don't mind if I –"

"Befriend him? You've already done that and you don't need mine or your mother's permission."

Her ears flickered and she averted her gaze. "It's not you or Mom."

"Hadhari," Bukua guessed. When his daughter made no reply, he sighed. "Johari, you're a grown lioness and it's clear that Akanni is, as you said, a good lion. If you trust him – though you have only known him a day – then I trust that you will remember all the things your mother and I have taught you over the seasons."

He walked up to her, seeing innocence in her eyes and face, but what he also saw was a lioness capable of making her own decisions. She wasn't a cub anymore and as much as a part of him wanted to he couldn't keep her safe forever. She and her siblings had to find their own path in life. He knew Nasila's path was with Jibade and his. He wasn't sure about Hadhari though he prayed for his slowly way warding son. And Johari's path in the meantime would be befriending this rogue lion named Akanni.

With a turn of his body Bukua and his second daughter left the spare chamber. The shaman's words rang in his head. For all any of them knew Rahimu had led their guest here for a reason.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"These lands are very nice. Actually, beautiful Your Highness," said Akanni, water dripping from his chin. His words were the truth. He'd never seen lands like the Western Plains, or tasted such cool refreshing water. And this, it seemed, was only one of many waterholes in the kingdom.

Beside him, King Dhoruba stood, nodding his elegant, black maned head. "Yes, they are lovely. Rahimu is an excellent Creator," he said with a broad smile, raising his head up to the sky that held a few clouds here and there. _Do these lands praise you,_ he wondered silently.

"Thank you for taking me to a waterhole." The young male's ears went back, so did his head. "I can't remember the last time I had a drink of water, or a drink from tasty water."

Dhoruba nodded slowly. Akanni was embarrassed. Why? It wasn't his fault. Nothing was. He had been where this lion was. Several seasons ago it was him standing at a waterhole with that same look, that same embarrassment and uncertainty. And in his present place back then was the lion that practically adopted him, gave him permission to marry his only daughter and with her rule these lands with the principles he had bestowed on them both!

Dhoruba knew he was walking in the paw prints of his late father-in-law, a lion he had loved and respected, admired and honored more than his own. How could he not? Now he wanted to do what Amri did for him: He wanted to tell Akanni that he was free to stay if he wanted to. But was it too soon? The young lion hadn't even been here a day! And yet he'd seen something in the spare chamber Akanni was currently occupying. It was between him and Johari, Bukua's daughter. Dhoruba felt himself smile as the image of the two young lions looking at each other with no fear, reluctance or hesitation. _They're like Kesha and I when we first met…_

"Your family is also very nice, sire. What little I saw of them earlier," the gold tan lion was saying.

A small jolt brought Dhoruba back to the present. He put his eyes to Akanni, having heard the last of his words. But he knew what had been said and nodded. "Yes, they are," the King said with another smile. He averted his eyes as an image of his family appeared in his mind's eye – His lovely Kesha, his strong and honorable Jibade and his sweetheart Mpenzi. "Without them, I wouldn't be a complete lion."

Akanni gave a small soft smile himself. The King and his family were a happy one. A small bout of envy rose up in him, wishing he had a family that had a strong reliance on the Creator his late adopted mother, blood mother and the shaman of his old pride loved so much. "If I may say, King Dhoruba, the same could be said for the guardian Bukua."

Dhoruba looked at the lion again. For someone who had been through what he had, having only been awake for what seemed like a short time, and having met complete strangers for only a moment before some of them left to mingle among their family and friends, Akanni was very observant.

"Bukua is my most trusted guardian. I trust him not only with my life but with the life of my family."

"He saved my life, sire. I feel like I owe him."

At that, Dhoruba chuckled. "No, you don't owe him anything. He was serving his Creator, his King and his kingdom in that order."

Akanni didn't say anything to that, but merely nodded in response. He looked around him, feeling more at peace now than he had the day before. He had been exhausted then and though he was still tired today, his leaf bandaged legs sore, he could think clearly. Ears flickering he turned back to the King. "Thank you for taking a mere stranger into your pride, cave, and kingdom."

"The Western Plains takes in those who have no shelter, and though we are a kingdom with tradition, we believe in mercy and justice," Dhoruba said, reciting words Amri had told him so long ago. Words he'd never forgotten.

Akanni smiled and suddenly he wanted to know more about the kingdom. Johari had told him the night before, after their introductions, that the Western Plains had been founded on faith. So he asked, and the King with a pleasing, surprised, but eager smile, looked in a single direction and started walking. Akanni followed and found his tired mind absorbing the ruler's words. Something inside of him had felt dry, lost and just incredibly exhausted. Now he was experiencing a peaceful kind of tired.

King Dhoruba spoke of a love that only one other creature in his life had ever spoken: Shabihi. She was gone, but this lion and all rulers before him and his mate shared that same love. The entire pride, it seemed, shared that love. They lived by it. It had become like their code, binding them. It made them not only family – for some by blood – but by the spirit.

Akanni found himself wanting to be part of it. He was desperate. Wasn't that what he and Shabihi often talked about? To find a pride that believed in love, honor, respect and the worship of Rahimu first and foremost? He had found it while he was still alive. Shabihi had found it in death. Though he missed her deeply, always would, he knew she was watching from wherever she was alongside his blood mother. As he hung on to King Dhoruba's every word, his heart and soul stirred. In his mind he imagined Shabihi and his blood mother looking on him and each other with smiles of joy.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The sun started to sink and the roar of a lioness split through the quiet, peaceful air. Ears rose, heads darted in every direction. Any feline, leonine, knew that roar well. It wasn't the hunt mistress, but the Queen herself and her call was to let her King and the rest of the pride know that the catch of the evening had been caught and taken back to their keep. Queen Kesha stood over the kill while her party lingered about, waiting for the return of the others and the leader.

Soon, everyone came, some sitting near friends, others not but Kesha remained where she was. It was her duty – especially since she led the hunt this time – to protect the catch from any lioness who would take a bite out of it. None of the lionesses she'd known her whole life had ever done that, but her duty was something of tradition. It couldn't be helped. As the daughter of the Western Plains royalty it was in her blood, the very core of her being, even if it was only a small part it was there and couldn't be ignored.

Her children and their friends arrived, followed by Bukua who, along with his children, came to his mate and nuzzled her lovingly while casting a firm, respectful bow of his head to her. Kesha returned it and sent a silent prayer of thanks that her friend was all right. Mpenzi and Jibade stood at her flank on either side of her. She smiled at them both.

Then King Dhoruba came, flanked reluctantly by the new lion Akanni. The two broke off, Akanni going to a place among the pride yet not, while Dhoruba walked up to her, placing one paw on the neck of a dead antelope. Another was not too far away.

At her mate's action Kesha got off and sat in the grass with her children. The King sent a prayer of thanks to Rahimu, asking Him to take care of the two dead animals souls. When the blessing was finished Dhoruba ripped off a large piece of meat and walked away from the group. Kesha grabbed her piece and joined her mate. The royal children, the guardians and the rest of the pride tore meat from the kills and went on about their conversations.

Akanni walked up to the carcasses, stomach growling with hunger. He was about to rip a piece for himself when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johari standing only a few steps away, a gentle smile on her face.

"Come and join us, Akanni. At the invitation of the Prince," she said. She turned her head to the group, then back to him.

Akanni was shocked. Why would – Then he chided himself. Prince Jibade wanted to get to know him. The King told him that commanded – gently of course – his son to treat Akanni as if he were a member of the pride and to befriend him. _If Prince Jibade is as kind and just like his father, I shouldn't have any problems._ "Thank you, Johari," he said and prepared to take a piece for himself when he felt the lioness put a paw on his. He looked at her again, confused.

"You can have half of my piece," she said and turned to leave.

Such behavior was lost on the lion but to say no would be rude. He walked with Johari to the group of young lions and lay down between the Princess Mpenzi and Johari. Now he felt awkward. He'd never been around lionesses his age. _No, they're not my age,_ he reminded himself. _I'm older than they are by a few seasons at least!_ But the gentle looks of King Dhoruba's daughter and the reassuring smiles of the guardian Bukua's second daughter told him he had nothing to fear.

"Glad you could join us, Akanni," said Prince Jibade in a pleased voice and smile to match it.

"Thank you for the invitation, Highness," he replied. They started eating and he saw Johari nudge a piece of her meal – what she was going to give him – in his direction. "Thank you," he said politely.

"You're welcome," the female said.

Akanni was about to sink his teeth into the flesh when a flash of movement caught his attention. His head snapped up in time to see the guardians' son Hadhari take his part of the kill roughly in his mouth and depart the group. He heard Prince Jibade sigh; saw the eldest daughter of Bukua Nasila looked down and saw Johari do the same thing beside him. He looked around at the small group. "Forgive me. Maybe this was a mistake." He was about to get up when the voice of the Prince made him stop.

"No, Akanni. Stay. Pay no mind to Hadhari. He's… Don't let him get to you. As long as you're staying in the Western Plains, you're welcome to join us no matter what. We have more than enough, and what we have, we will share with you."

A lump formed in the gold tan male's throat. He swallowed it and felt his heart pound at the words of this lion, this Heir of the Western Plains kingdom. _They take their belief in Rahimu very seriously,_ he thought. What could he say after that? No was out of the question. He wouldn't even consider it! Those he stood beside had done nothing but show him some form of care and respect just by introducing themselves!

Two were born with royal blood, while the other two were children of the guardian who saved his life. And a daughter of that guardian had taken it upon herself to leave her chamber in the middle of the night to make sure he – a mere stranger – was okay! He nodded at the Prince's words. He had no words to reply with. He lay back down, pawed the meat and bit into it. Everyone else did right after.

He met eyes with Johari again. She offered him a courteous smile and he couldn't help but smile back. Hers was contagious. He wasn't sure when he smiled the last time! _Far too long,_ he thought.

Swallowing a bite he looked around. For the first time in his life – at least for the first time since his blood mother was taken from him and since Shabihi died – he was at peace. _With King Dhoruba's permission, I will call this place home._

The Western Plains, Akanni decided, was indeed a shelter. _Thank you, Rahimu, for your faithfulness._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

King Dhoruba looked up from his meal, his eyes moving from the lionesses, to the guardians or Bukua and Ajia, and finally to his son, daughter, their friends, and… Dhoruba's eyes grew wide in astonishment and a smile of pride covered his blood stained maw.

His mate noticed the look and gently nudged him in the shoulder. "What is it?" she asked.

Her sweet quiet voice melted his heart. "Look," he said and nodded his head.

Kesha did as he said. She smiled. "He's settling in well."

"And that's good. I don't know which of our children or Bukua's invited Akanni, but I'm pleased. It will help him a lot."

"I don't see Hadhari," said Kesha, leaning close to him.

Dhoruba's ears flickered. He didn't either. Was the young guard that cautious? Or was he that untrusting? Would the son of his friend and at-one-time savior take time to get to know Akanni like the others? Like Dhoruba himself had all day? _Maybe he needs time,_ the leader thought, hoping he was right. He turned to Kesha. "As long as Jibade keeps his promise – and I know he will – Akanni will be all right. Hadhari can't do anything to him. I know that whatever Akanni endured away from a kingdom and pride only made him stronger." He shrugged a little. "It did me."

Kesha nuzzled his shoulder. "Yes, that's true." She purred softly.

Dhoruba smiled and licked the top of her head. "Akanni is a good lion. He may decide to stay."

"I hope he does," said the Queen. "Jibade and Mpenzi seem to like him. So do Nasila and Johari."

Dhoruba could only nod.

That night when everyone stepped into the den and settled down in their respective places, the royal family retired to their chamber. The guardians were near their cave but no one went in. They stood in a circle, looking from one member of their family to the other.

Bukua met eyes with his youngest daughter. After the meal she and Nasila returned to their parents where she explained her idea. It sounded crazy. It was, but now that he heard it again in soft tones so as not to wake the pride – though they could have talked about it in the guardian chamber – Bukua could see that his daughter was serious, that she wanted to do this. For all he knew she may have even prayed about it. But she was no doubt willing. How could he say no? She never did any wrong in her life! She was his daughter, his precious jewel from Rahimu Himself.

Perhaps it was the suffering Akanni endured in the world that was drawing her to him. Or it was something else entirely. He wasn't sure, but Johari had a mind of her own and when her eyes met those of Akanni's he could see no sign of foul play on either of their parts.

While he wasn't sure of Akanni's age, he didn't care, just as long as the new guy treated his daughter right and with respect… He smiled to Johari and glanced at Ajia. From the look in her eyes he noticed she had come to the same conclusions as he. She too had an approving smile on her face and it looked beautiful on her.

"Thank you both," said Johari and she turned from them.

Nasila walked into their family chamber, followed by Hadhari who had another stern cold look on his face. Bukua shook his head, nuzzled his wife so he wouldn't say or act against his son and with her joined their eldest children.

In the spare chamber, Akanni was surprised and delighted to see Johari. As quickly as she could she told him that her father was okay with her staying with Akanni for the duration of his recovery, however long it took.

"My brother has a problem with it, but I'm not worried. Prince Jibade won't let him try anything."

Akanni nodded and licked his right forepaw. "Even if he does, it doesn't bother me. Your brother may look and act tough but proving it is another thing. I won't fight him and if I do it's only to protect myself. However, I won't, for your sake." He offered her a gentle smile.

"You're very kind, Akanni," said Johari as she lay her head on her paws. "Goodnight."

"Sleep well, Johari," the lion replied and laid his head down with closed eyes. The day had exhausted him, but it was worth it.

All through the night the King and the tan gold lion did not dream. They slept in peace.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

He'd spent much of his life as a rogue with just an elderly lioness who he called 'Mother' from the time of cubhood – after his blood mother had been brutally taken from him. Accepting the fact that his adopted mother was gone had been hard. Taking her body to belong to the grass had also been difficult, but he'd done because it was right. Wandering on his own for he knew how long he'd often thought he wouldn't live to see the next morning. But Akanni never entertained the idea of finding a pride and being accepted by its leaders!

That was in the past of only a few days, a recent event that had no place in his mind or his thoughts. He still wasn't sure how he came to stumble on the Western Plains, or stumble then fall and finally lose consciousness. Maybe it was the hunger and the lack of water that made him delirious, or something else. Maybe it was the pain he still felt at the loss of his dear adopted mother Shabihi. Or it was the great pain of fully realizing that he was the last member of his slain pride.

Then there was the thought of the one responsible for the decimation of their pride still living, the Prince himself. Akanni rarely heard the Prince's name spoken on anyone's lips. He couldn't recall a time when Shabihi spoke the name of the one who was supposed to rule after their then current King. Over time Akanni had reasoned to and with himself in his mind and sometimes in quiet tones that there was no need to speak the Prince's name for fear that it would bring up feelings of anger, hatred and create the possibility of vengeance.

As he grew Akanni entertained the idea. Vengeance and justice for his young friends, for his mother, for his adopted mother's sister… Shabihi, in all her wisdom, knew when the thought came to him and would say that vengeance would do no good. "It will lead you down a path you don't want to go. It is a dark and dangerous journey, one that leads only to destruction, pain and a never ending craving for more once your own supposed quest is complete."

Many times she said those words when she found him alone with a dark stare on his face, an even darker glint in his eyes. Akanni would only turn his head away. In those moments Shabihi would be quiet and then whisper on the still air or on an afternoon or early evening breeze, "Vengeance is Rahimu's, and only He will repay."

At the mention of the Lord something stirred in the young lion's soul and he would nod in acceptance, despite the pain he felt.

After Shabihi's death the luring idea for vengeance filled his mind, but her words of wisdom would come and ring loudly in his ears. Only then did he speak Rahimu's blessed name. The thoughts didn't stay after though he still had his moments and spoke the Lord's name to curb them.

Akanni's life had been far from easy.

As a cub he lived in fear. Growing up the fear turned to worry, not for himself but for Shabihi and he used that worry into serving her. He would hunt for them, find good waterholes for them to drink from and find shelters for them to sleep in. He never wanted for anything, never asked, but when Shabihi died he felt as though he had nothing. But he continued to provide for himself. Even when he wanted to give up and sometimes die he would speak his Lord's name. Only then would he find courage and strength to go on.

Before he fell onto the grass of the Western Plains, the name of Rahimu was on his mind, burned deeply into his soul and in his weakened mind he asked God to help him. His acceptance in to the Western Plains kingdom was like an answer to a prayer he hadn't even uttered. He still had no idea what to make of it, if he could. After waking in a chamber in the pride's den, talking with King Dhoruba and getting to know the King's children and the guardian's children Akanni was slowly starting to feel at home in the Western Plains. He wasn't sure what it was about the kingdom that had him drawn and he wasn't going to question it.

Upon completing his first official day in the realm, he spent the second day with Prince Jibade. He learned just about everything a common lion needed to know about the life of a royal lion and it flattered and surprised Akanni that the royal male would so willingly talk about it. It was as though the Prince was oblivious to the fact that, if he wanted to, Akanni could jump him, fight him and spill his blood. Of course, Akanni would never do that. The parents of Prince Jibade accepted him; their kingdom's shaman put medicine on his wounds and the guardians saved his life when they could have left him on the borders to die!

But the lions of the Western Plains were not hostile nor were they careless or cruel.

During the walk and the occasional stop to drink from a waterhole or rest, Prince Jibade spoke of the goodness of Rahimu and how he hoped to be as good a sovereign as his mother and father.

At that Akanni, with a low head, stared at the Prince and spoke humbly. "I'm sure you will, Your Highness. Your parents seem to have taught you well."

Jibade smiled and dipped his head, his light gray eyes shining in the sun. "Thank you, Akanni." He paused to breathe in the fresh air before continuing. "I hope you'll stay here. Whatever hardships you endured out there in the unknown, it can end here. In the Western Plains you will have a community, a pride, family, food, water. Here you will have a hope and the assurance of knowing that no matter what may happen, Rahimu is faithful to those who love Him, and calls out to those who do not know Him. He wants to give us a hope and a future. All we have to do is ask and trust in Him."

The light gold tan lion had no words; he just bowed his head silently. He then spent the following day with Princess Mpenzi. She was a lot like her brother, full of love, wisdom and possessed a steadfast faith in Rahimu.

The third day he remained at the pride's cave to rest and it was Johari who stayed with him. When afternoon came she told him he slept most of the day. He chuckled. "I was more tired than I realized." He started licking his paw. "But it was worth it. These lands are so beautiful. I'm starting to feel at home and I've only been here a few days."

Johari smiled. "The Western Plains have that affect, only because Rahimu has blessed it so much." She let out a heavy, but contented sigh. Her tail tapped softly on the ground as her eyes took in the scenery, the majesty and, yes, the beauty. "So much that we don't deserve it," the lioness said quietly. "But God is good."

Akanni felt a deep stirring in his heart. He had never heard the Lord's name spoken so much and so frequently. In his old pride it was forbidden. But here, there was freedom to worship, to praise, to be thankful to the Creator of everything and everyone. Peace reigned in these lands because peace reigned in the hearts of the lions of the kingdom. He wanted that peace and had to wonder if his life would be different with it.

He looked at Johari again, whose eyes were still on the lands before them. She continued watching over him, wanted to and was willing to endure harshness from her only brother to do so. Why? What was it about him – a rogue – that was causing her to act this way? He wanted to know then decided against it. Maybe she would tell him one day. This lioness had a kind, loving heart. Was that it? She was filled with love and gentleness.

After his friends had been cut down in their cubhood, and while he was growing up, Akanni wondered if he would ever meet a lioness near his age, if he would ever fall in love and have a family. Since the deaths of his friend and his mother life and the future seemed pointless to think about. The pointlessness grew when Shabihi passed away. The redmaned lion shook his head and averted his gaze from Johari. It was far too soon to be thinking about love and family. Besides, he was older than her.

"Are you okay, Akanni?" asked Johari.

He started a bit and met eyes with her again. She was beautiful, kind and whatever he saw in her, he wanted the same thing for himself. He wanted the peace and hope she had. "Yes, thank you." He added a smile with his words and when she returned it, he continued. "I do appreciate you watching over me, but… I think I'm going to be okay now." He looked at the bandaged leaves on his legs and turned his head to the one back leg that was also bandaged.

Johari's whisker's twitched. She put one paw on top of the other and weighed her words before speaking. Then she said, "Are you sure? I don't mind, Akanni. My parents and sister don't either."

The lion's right ear flickered while the left went back against his head. "But your brother does," he said quietly. "I can see it in his eyes. You're his younger sister. He feels he needs to protect you."

"I love Hadhari. He is my brother, but we're not cubs anymore. He really didn't need to protect me then, and he doesn't need to now. I'm a grown lioness and I can take care of myself. Besides, if you were going to hurt me, you'd have done it already."

"I never would, Johari," said Akanni, his red eyes snapping for a split second. "You've been nothing but kind to me since we met. How can I repay your kindness with evil? My mother taught me better than that." He meant Shabihi, of course, but he would tell Johari about her another time. For now he could only pause, let out a breath and look at her again. "I don't want to cause a rift between you and Hadhari. You and your siblings have something I will never understand."

Johari ran her tongue over her lips. A deep sense of compassion and empathy welled up in her for this lion that arrived here with nothing but his mane and the fur on his body. Any other wounds he had weren't physical, but in his soul. She wanted to help him, but she also didn't want to push him away by being too forceful with her need or want or desire to help him. She would have to be patient, and, unlike her brother, patience was something she and her sister got from their parents.

Again she carefully weighed her words and prayed for the right ones to come. "Akanni… I don't know what you endured out there away from a pride and territory, but you don't have to worry about loneliness here. We take care of each other, and it's by the grace and love of Rahimu that we're able to pick each other up when we stumble. We carry each other's burdens, we pray for each other." She felt her eyes harden. "Hadhari can speak against me staying in your chambers all he wants. I won't leave unless you want me to."

But that was it! He… Akanni closed his eyes, shook his head and met her eyes, searchingly. "Are you sure?" He had to know.

She nodded with a certainty he felt all the way to his soul. "Yes, I am."

Before he could give his full permission he raised his right forepaw in the air. "Johari, I swear on my life that I will not come against you. I'm not that kind of lion."

"I know, Akanni," the lioness said softly. "I know." She smiled at him, which he returned.

His heart lifted at the fact that she believed him. So she stayed that night, much to his relief. He had been able to sleep in the days following the death of Shabihi but those times were shrouded with painful memories and dreams of losing his friends and blood mother. Having Johari in what he now had come to call 'his chambers' in the pride's den was what he needed. With her nearby he slept in peace and though the memories came they didn't hit him with great force.

The next day, the shaman Ibada came and took the bandages off his legs.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Looking at the new member of his pride was like looking at his reflection in the waterhole. Even a small glance Akanni's way – whether the lion knew he looked or not was unclear – and King Dhoruba could see himself.

Though the two looked nothing alike and he was older by at least several seasons, something about this young lion brought memories and thoughts of the past for the leader of the Western Plains. While they didn't hit him one by one, instead bit by bit, they were there lingering in his mind, slowly making their way deep inside.

He knew he made the right choice, accepting the homeless lion. Turning him away would have been a big mistake. He would have gone against everything his predecessor had taught him and such a thing would not sit well with him. Kesha would have been surprised if he had, not to mention their son and daughter. He was pleased that Akanni was settling in well, but he knew Jibade, Mpenzi, and the daughters of Bukua – mainly Johari – were to thank for that.

Dhoruba hadn't spoken to Akanni since their talk his first full day in the kingdom. He wasn't sure what to say to the young male. How could he express to him that he, his King, had come to the Western Plains in the exact same way and that they were both discovered by the same lion? That fate, destiny or even history was repeating itself in so short a time, if three to four years was short at all? The very reality of it didn't seem real to Dhoruba. It seemed almost like a dream, but then so did his sudden arrival.

Even now as he walked through his lands, his whiskers twitching, his light gray eyes looking on the grass below, the waterholes ahead, the trees all around and the sky with scattered clouds above, he couldn't make sense of any of it.

_No one told me life could be like this,_ he thought to himself as he ran his tongue absently over his mouth. But it was more than just the young male's inadvertently stirring up memories of the past.

_**Yes, it is more than that, isn't Dhoruba?**_

The brown lion shook his head, shut his eyes and growled quietly. "What? Am I supposed to know him?" he muttered to himself.

_**You think you don't? For a King you're pretty stupid! Of course you should know him! Look at him, really look at him!**_

But what was there to look at? Akanni seemed like an ordinary lion that lived a tough life and was in need of peace and contentment. If that was true, then the King and his new pride member had something in common. In fact, everything that Akanni was going through reminded Dhoruba of his own early days in the Western Plains. How King Amri took him under his tutelage of Rahimu, how Princess Kesha took it upon herself to look after him while he recovered from his wounds. These lands and some members of the royal family saved his life, maybe even his soul, and the same thing was happening to Akanni.

Dhoruba stopped and bowed his head. "Rahimu… Your ways are not ours because what your plan for each of us is something we ourselves cannot begin to comprehend. But if some are willing and allow you to lead us, we'll find your ways are blessings and not curses, no matter how much hurt we endure along the way."

_**Or the hurt you inflict on others and then run away like a sniveling coward? Huh, Dhoruba? What about that?**_

The lion shut his eyes against the dark voice. His legs shook, his heart pounded and he bit his tongue as he forced himself to think once more about Akanni and what he endured out in the world alone. It must have been the same as it was for him. Away from a pride a lone lion could easily die by getting kicked in the face or in the head while hunting prey, or fighting against a strong, malicious rogue, or even a coalition of them if a young rogue was foolish enough to come across one in the wrong way. Dhoruba knew how easy that was. He had done it a few times and narrowly escaped.

Then there was searching for a place to sleep at night without intruding on a shelter that was already taken. Every day out in the world was uncertain one and each time you woke to see the sun in the sky or rain falling from the sky to replenish the world around you was a given. Even surviving a hunt was a blessing in disguise.

Dhoruba looked around, swallowed, and resumed his walk. He wondered if Akanni was thankful to Rahimu for leading him to the Western Plains. He sure was. He was thankful everyday he woke to see his beloved mate sleeping beside him.

The thought of Kesha brought a smile to the King's lips. His Kesha, his love, his Queen… Without her, even now Dhoruba wasn't sure he could do any of things his late father-in-law had – being King, keeping the peace as best he could among the animals, and patrolling the lands now and again. He was glad he had Bukua and his mate for that. He was gladder to have Bukua and Ajia's children, or at least, their son and eldest daughter.

Dhoruba smirked as he remembered the occasional times Kesha took away from the hunting party to join him on his walks through the kingdom, how they would patrol together and look after their shared realm like proud parents. Then, of course, there was Jibade and Mpenzi, two precious gifts from Rahimu Himself. No matter how tired he was from patrolling or settling the animals' squabbles, Dhoruba made time for his children. They were important to him and from the day they were born he swore that he would not be like his father: absent, cold-hearted, distant, expecting far too much and sucking away the joy fatherhood could give.

Because of Amri, Dhoruba believed that being a father was also a blessing from Rahimu. But around his own father Dhoruba knew from hard experience that fatherhood, while a great blessing could also be abused, and Dhoruba himself was glad that he had someone like Amri to show him that doing right by one's children was always good.

Seeing a waterhole up ahead, Dhoruba walked toward it and lowered his head down to drink. When he licked his maw, water falling from his chin and whiskers, Dhoruba looked into the water and stared at his reflection. Peering harder he saw it change from him to – Eyes wide he gasped and stepped back, shaking his head, shutting his eyes and opening them again. His heart beat and he trembled.

"F-father…" he said in a sudden, frightened voice.

Hesitantly he moved up to the bank and looked again. This time he saw only his own face staring back at him. A relieved sigh came from him and he lay down with his paws atop the water. He put his head down on the grass, pondering. He wanted to know what he was going to do for Akanni, if anything. From what he'd seen in the last few days, Jibade and Mpenzi were doing his job for him by teaching the newcomer all about Rahimu and the Western Plains' history. Did they know anything about his past, where he came from?

_**Why should they know about Akanni when they really know nothing about you, Dhoruba? You really think you can keep it from them forever? You've lasted this long, but it will come. And when it does you better prepare to lose everything!**_

The King swallowed, felt a sharp pain in his heart and closed his eyes. "Rahimu," he said in a soft voice. "Please, help me…" He prayed that Akanni would learn all he could from the Prince and Princess. He prayed that Rahimu would use him as a profound influence on Akanni's new life in the Western Plains like the late King Amri had for him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"You're making way too big a deal out of this," said Prince Jibade as he walked the southern side of the kingdom. He paused to stretch his legs, looked around and sniffed the air for strange, lingering scents of foreign animals, namely lions. Namely rogues who were willing to kill to steal another's land. There was nothing, but he wasn't about to let his guard down. As the future leader of the Western Plains, Jibade had known from the day he started growing his mane that it was his duty to protect the lands and the animals living in this place of hope, sanctuary and peace.

A part of the Prince wished he was alone or with one of the other guardians. He wished he was with Nasila. She was good company. He enjoyed her presence, her comforting silence and her words of encouragement when he foolishly thought out loud if he would fail. He even found himself wishing he was with his mother who was walking the northern side, seeing to the animals. He even wished he was out with his sister who was hunting. Anywhere was better than his present company.

His companion for the day shook its head. "I either think you're blind, naïve, or just plain stupid Jibade. Our guest has been here for a few days now and you're acting like he couldn't kill you or your father or me or mine. What's the matter with you? You're the Prince! You're supposed to be on alert for lions like him."

Jibade stopped and met eyes with the son of Bukua. A flash of anger showed on the royal lion's face. "Lions like him? You mean a lion that was found on our kingdom's borders unconscious? A lion that was battered, hurt, scarred on the outside and possibly on the inside...?"

The other male groaned and shook his head. "We don't know a thing about him," he snapped.

"You really think a lion like Akanni could fake being injured? Ibada came, looked him over and put medicine on Akanni's legs. The shaman of the Western Plains wouldn't be called by my father, the King, if our guest _wasn't_ hurt." Jibade sucked in a deep sharp breath through his mouth and exhaled through his nose. His tail switched behind him in angry strokes and he resisted the urge to unsheathe his claws and stomp on Hadhari's forepaw or smack him in the face. He bit his tongue. _Rahimu, help me keep control…_ Thankful that his friend didn't speak Jibade faced him again, his eyes peering deeply into the young guard's. "What's your real problem with Akanni?" he asked pointedly.

"You should know," Hadhari said in a low voice. "I don't trust him."

"How can you?" Jibade asked intently, probingly. "You've never even taken the time to trust him."

"And you have? You spent, what, a whole day with him?"

"That shouldn't surprise you, and yes I did. We talked. I told him about our kingdom's history, about my family's history."

"Don't you mean the history on your mother's side of the family? You know nothing of your father's."

Ears bent back, a paw rubbing the grassy ground, Jibade replied, "The only thing Mpenzi and I know is that Father was born in a pride with the kind of King that struck terror and fear into his pride's and family's hearts. Father didn't want to follow in his pawprints so he left." The Prince bowed his head for a moment and then looked at Hadhari out of the corner of his eye. He felt his eyes harden as he said, "If you think that's cowardice of a royal lion…"

"I never said that!"

"You don't have to. Anyway, this is not about my father or his past. This is about your foolish and uncalled for hatred of Akanni."

Bukua's son smirked and shook his head. "You're too trusting, Jibade."

"And you do not trust enough."

"I'm a guard, and the only ones I trust are my parents, you, Mpenzi, and my sisters."

"So that's it? You have no room to trust anyone else?"

Hadhari didn't answer and his silence was all the answer the Prince needed.

Jibade sighed deeply. "Is it because Johari has taken a liking to Akanni?"

Eyes suddenly ablaze, heart pounding, blood rushing through his body Hadhari faced his friend and bore his teeth. "She has no business being around this stranger!" he hissed.

"He's hardly a stranger," Jibade said in an even tone of voice.

"To you, maybe, but Johari… She's innocent, clean. She doesn't need to be tainted."

"I highly doubt Akanni would take advantage of a lioness like Johari. He doesn't seem the type."

"And how do you know that?"

Jibade met his eyes. "Do you trust me with Nasila?" he asked point blank.

Hadhari took a step backward. The question caught him off guard and it showed in his expression. His body shook a little. "That's… that's different. Of course I trust you with Nasila! You grew up together, we all did!"

"Yes, and have you noticed that you and I are the only males in the pride?"

"Not anymore. Now we have this Akanni character to contend with."

"But before he came it was just you and me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Johari would want more from life? To fall in love with a lion and have cubs one day?"

"It's a bit early to –"

"Did it ever occur to you Hadhari? It's a simple yes or no question."

"I don't know, okay?"

The two didn't speak for a moment. They just stood together, staring at each other, each weighing the other's gaze, the questions and everything else. Then in a quiet almost distant voice, Jibade spoke again. "My parents met in the same manner that Johari and Akanni have. Did your father tell you that?"

"Why would he?"

A pained sigh came from the Prince's opened mouth. "What I'm saying is that things happen for a reason. People come into our lives, at first it seems, with no real reason. But with time, perseverance and patience, it makes sense. I'm sure my parents didn't know at that long ago time that they would be ruling these lands, that they would have me and Mpenzi. And I imagine when they talk of the past, when they look back on it and see how much they've grown, they have no regrets."

Jibade paused and blinked his eyes. Emotion was beginning to strangle him. Talking about this, about his parents and the deep devotion and love they had for each other made him wish Nasila was here with him. What his parents had he hoped to one day have with her. He even wished it for Johari and Akanni, if something was happening between them.

He turned to Hadhari again who was still looking at him with impatience. _You never were patient were you, my friend?_ "Akanni is here for a reason," he said, his voice strained. "For all I know he _needs_ to be here. Rahimu has a plan for him. Our Lord God has a plan for all of us, and we have to figure out what it is."

"What makes you think Akanni needs to be here?"

A shudder worked its way through the royal lion's body as he shut his eyes. His friend still didn't understand. Hadhari just didn't have the mindset of faith that Jibade, his sister and Hadhari's sisters had, or their parents. He shook his mane. "I don't have the answers," he heard himself say. "I don't think anyone does, except Rahimu."

When he looked at Hadhari again he wanted so much to smack his friend hard in the face, He resisted the temptation and continued. "But I do know, for a fact, that Johari likes Akanni, and if I were her brother, I would trust her to do the right thing. I would trust her to be careful. I would tell Akanni that if he ever laid a paw of harm on her, I'd hunt him down and beat him to within an inch of his life. I would do that because I care for Johari, not because I'm out to prove myself as a good guardian." He walked up to Hadhari and stood with him shoulder to shoulder. He faced one way, Hadhari the other. The Prince and the guardian, two friends, almost like brothers, were completely different in looks, manners and attitudes.

Then Hadhari faced his counterpart, eyes glaring. "What makes you think I'm out to prove myself? I just want those I love protected and safe. Is that so wrong? Wouldn't you do the same for Mpenzi?"

"I love Mpenzi with everything I am. She is my sister and Lord knows I would do anything to protect her." Before Hadhari could speak, he added, "But I would also trust her. I would pray that she was smart enough to see danger and escape before any harm could come. I can't watch her all the time, just as you can't watch Nasila or Johari. We both have responsibilities to ourselves and the kingdom."

"So you're saying that if she was interested in Akanni you would look the other way?"

"No. I would trust both of them."

Hadhari scoffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Then you really are naïve."

"Maybe I am. But I would rather be that than paranoid."

"You're saying I'm paranoid?"

"I'm saying, leave Akanni and Johari alone. Akanni has done nothing to earn your scorn." With that, Jibade walked away.

Hadhari watched. "As you wish… Your Highness…" But he had no intention of taking the Prince's advice.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

After resting, Dhoruba set off again going in no particular direction. He had no destination set in mind though he admitted to himself he was tired. But he had no idea why. He'd had no nightmares in the last few nights and he was grateful. But ever since waking this morning his mind didn't want to work, nor did his body. He just wanted some time to himself so he asked Kesha if she would see to the animals.

"I hate leaving you with this," he told her as they stood together on the stone. "It's my responsibility. What would your father say?"

But his beloved Queen smiled warmly, laid her head near his and spoke in a level tone of voice, almost a whisper. "He would say that every King needs a rest, and that no lion can run a kingdom by himself."

Under those words Dhoruba felt himself relax until another hard question came out of his mouth before his mind had a chance to process it. "What about your brother Taraji? Would he have said that? Does he go through the same thing in his lands?"

Kesha chuckled and it soothed her mate's anxiety. "I'm sure he does. Every King needs time to himself." She pulled away and faced him, looking deep into his eyes. He was tired. "Dhoruba, it's all right. Take today off. I can take care of the animals, and I'm sure one of the older lionesses would be happy to lead in my place."

He swallowed. "This isn't fair to you," he said wearily.

Kesha nuzzled him and licked his cheek. "We're a team, Dhoruba. Please rest, and leave the problems of the animals to me."

Continuing the discussion would do no good so he gave a nod of surrender. A day off was what he needed even though he spent much of it drinking from waterholes, resting and praying to Rahimu for the dark voice in his thoughts to leave him alone. He wasn't refreshed but he wasn't as tired as when he first woke up either. He wasn't sure what he was. Part of him wanted to see Ibada and ask for more herbs, but he remembered the shaman's warning about becoming dependant on them. But he wanted to be free of the nightmares. He wanted to understand and figure out why he was having them to begin with. He wasn't desperate, but he wasn't far from it either. In the last few days he wanted to talk to Kesha about stepping down – both of them – and letting Jibade take over. Each time the thought occurred to him he dismissed it.

_No. It's too soon. Jibade needs more time. I need more time. It wouldn't be fair to my son if Kesha and I give him the throne now._

But Jibade was capable. Dhoruba knew that and he was sure Kesha did too. The day before they walked together and a few animals asked about the Prince. Dhoruba saw pride and honor in their eyes when they spoke Jibade's name. They knew that he would lead them well, protect them and work for their good. Of course they did. Their current Prince was the grandson of a still well-respected King, though said King was in the stars. But that King had left behind a strong legacy, one that remained in this kingdom and was now leading another kingdom in the south.

In his walk Dhoruba wondered about his brother-in-law King Taraji. He hoped all was well. _Rahimu,_ he prayed silently, _as you watch over us, please watch over Taraji, his family, his pride and his kingdom._

Before he knew it he heard a voice speak to him.

"Dhoruba… I didn't expect to see you here."

He started, snapped his head upward then he stopped and stared. There was Kesha, her medium almost dark tanned colored fur darkening in the afternoon sun. For a moment he looked up at the sky. Yes, it was afternoon. The sky was already starting to turn. _Very beautiful,_ he thought as he looked on his mate again. She was beautiful. Oh, Rahimu was she beautiful. _I don't deserve her, Lord._ He walked toward her and when they stood face to face they both smiled and Dhoruba nuzzled her tenderly. He licked her cheek, purring with gracious because she was near him again. She was his pillar of strength, the love of his life and his other half. She was his everything, whether she knew it or not.

"I'm so glad to see you," he murmured.

"And I you," Kesha responded. They pulled apart and Kesha heard herself ask, "How are you? Feeling any better?"

He shrugged. "I'm not too sure. How do I look?"

She took a moment to study him. If he got any sleep it showed. "You look a little bit better."

"I'll take what I can get. Come on, let's go home. I imagine the hunting party is back with the catch."

They walked together, side by side in silence. Then Dhoruba asked, "How was it?"

"A few squabbles here and there. Two zebra herds are fighting over territory again, but I managed to settle that without too much trouble. Hopefully the leaders won't butt heads, but knowing zebra they can't make such a promise."

Dhoruba nodded and felt a stab of guilt. _I should have been with her._ "I… see," he said slowly. "What else?"

As Kesha prepared to say more she noticed another tired look on her mate's face. She leaned her head toward his. The feel of his soft mane against her face was what she needed after a long day.

"Mind if I tell you tomorrow? I'd rather not bore you with the details now."

He couldn't keep the smile from his face. He had done the same for her more than once, and when he did she never pressed him. She knew what it was like. She wasn't the Queen of a kingdom who only hunted. No. She was more than that. She had been trained to deal with the problems of the animals. He had too. But their fathers were completely different. His father was cruel, cold and ruled his realm with a hard rock paw. Kesha's father ruled honorably and wisely. King Amri had a heart and ruled the Western Plains with a paw of love and mercy.

When they arrived at the caves the roar of their son pierced the air. A tremble of pride surged through Dhoruba's bones. His son was strong, mature, and he followed the ways of Rahimu as taught to him and his sister by his parents.

As Dhoruba and Kesha approached the kill – from what they could see it was gazelle, enough to last a day or two – Dhoruba looked at his son and sent him a proud smile. The pride, including their still newest member Akanni, who was standing beside Johari, gathered. Dhoruba couldn't help but notice that the light gold tanned lion was standing near the lioness as though he was protecting her. Or maybe it was Johari protecting Akanni. Either way it didn't matter. The two seemed content in each other's company and Dhoruba learned that Bukua and Ajia had no problems.

He smiled at his pride and he and Kesha bowed their heads to pray. The pride did the same and when the prayer was over the King and Queen tore off their strips. The Prince and Princess were quick to follow, then the guardian family, and the rest of the pride. Everyone was surprised when Dhoruba and Kesha soon left, going into the den. Glances and looks were exchanged, soft murmurs of confusion spoken but no one questioned. Some had seen the tired gaze of the King.

Everyone split into their respective evening groups.

Jibade's, of course consisted of his sister, Hadhari his sisters, and Akanni. Upon seeing the other male Hadhari scoffed and once again removed himself. But before he could go further away, Jibade got to his paws and stepped on his friend's tail.

"You're going to have to get used to him, Hadhari," said the Prince, his eyes glaring. "Whether you like it or not, Akanni is here to stay."

Hadhari glared back and, behind the royal lion, saw his sister and the new guy sharing a piece of the kill: hers. His eyes burned and the fur on his back bristled. He turned back to Jibade. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but you're a fool." Without waiting for a response, he picked up his meat and walked away, his tail swishing angrily behind him.

Jibade closed his eyes, said a silent prayer and returned to the group.

"He's gone again," said Nasila in a quiet voice only he could hear.

He looked at her and it was all she needed. She sighed and pawed her meat. Jibade gently nudged her and licked her cheek, purring with reassurance.

"It may take him some time," said another voice beside the Prince.

He turned to see his sister staring at him. She had spoken her words quietly like Nasila. Jibade could only nod, but he wasn't sure if he agreed. Maybe Mpenzi had a point. Maybe all Hadhari needed was time to adjust. His ears flickered as he offered his sister a smile and sank his teeth into his part of the kill. He was hungry and he wasn't going to let his heavily stubborn friend ruin their meal now or in the future. He raised his eyes to Johari and Akanni who seemed oblivious to Hadhari's departure. _Just as well,_ Jibade thought. _Rahimu, don't harden his heart… please!_

But the younger sister of Hadhari did notice his absence. As much as she wanted to get up and try to talk some sense into him she knew he had to come to the realization that Akanni wasn't bad on his own, if he ever did. She met eyes with Akanni and offered him a kind smile.

As if reading her thoughts or the look in her eyes, the red maned lion leaned forward, putting a paw on hers. "It would take more than Hadhari's… distrust of me to get me to leave," he whispered.

"I wouldn't want you to," she replied.

He nodded. "The only way I would leave is if King Dhoruba kicked me out."

Johari shook her head. "He's not going to. He has no reason."

Akanni stared at her, his gaze slightly hard but deeply intent. "And I'm not going to give him one."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

That night when Dhoruba closed his eyes to sleep he hoped for a peaceful one. And he was able to… for a time. He wasn't sure how long but it didn't matter. What peaceful sleep he did get was important.

Then it happened unexpectedly, unwontedly. A sharp tremor gripped his body, followed by a shiver and a sudden need to breathe, to gasp. He felt his back legs twitch, heard himself utter a small but hard moan.

Then he forced himself to wake up and open his eyes. He did, but he was not in his chambers. He raised his head and looked to the side. Kesha wasn't there. Alarmed, he got to his paws, blinking his eyes frantically, thinking that at any minute she would appear. But she didn't. He turned his body completely around, hoping to see the sleeping forms of his son and daughter. They weren't there either. And he wasn't in his chambers; he was in an open space. A space filled with grass and trees here and there, even a large stream of water. _Strange,_ he thought.

He started walking and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds covered it and lightning made its presence known. Dhoruba shivered at the sight and his ears fell against his head as the sound of thunder rumbled, exploded and echoed.

He looked around. What was he doing here? But he knew the answer to the question. He was dreaming. _Rahimu,_ he prayed desperately. _Wake me up. Please!_

Dhoruba shut his eyes for a moment then opened them again. Nothing changed. He was still in the same place, still dreaming. _But why,_ he wondered. _Why am I dreaming now? I thought I was doing okay. They weren't coming as bad as before. Rahimu… where are you?_ His legs shook but still he continued walking. Where he was going he had no idea but he couldn't just lie in the spot he'd woken up in. He sniffed the air and pulled his head back in disgust. He wanted to throw up. The atmosphere was desolate and the air… smelled like blood. He swallowed and grimaced.

A sudden wind came up, hitting him with its coldness. It stung at his face. "Hello!" he called out. "Is anyone here?" He waited, but no reply came. He tried two more times but the results were the same. There was no answer. Thunder rolled, lightning shrouded the entire area in its frightening but brilliant silver glow. Where it struck, Dhoruba didn't know, nor did he want to. He was surprised it wasn't raining. The grass under his paws was green with a hint of brown to it. It wasn't dead and the rain would see to its replenishment when it came.

He wondered what this place – wherever he was – looked in the daytime, with clear blue skies and the sun shining. He tried to picture it but couldn't. The winds increased and he shivered hard, teeth chattering. He was amazed he could see anything in this great darkness, but he was glad he could.

His whiskers twitched and a loud sound filled his ears. He shrugged it off, dismissing it as thunder. Then the sound came again, clearer this time, which was amazing given the wind and how it had increased. He stopped, his ears flickered. He tried to focus. There it was again, but it wasn't thunder. It was… _A… roar…? Someone's here!_ He tried to decipher it. It was a roar he'd rarely heard in the last several years. Hardly anyone in the Western Plains gave off a roar to let others know that someone was in trouble or that it was an emergency. Emergencies in his and Kesha's kingdom were rare.

But here, wherever here was…

The roar came again, louder and more intense this time. It sounded… angry, almost violent. So he followed it, paying no mind to the lightning that continued to fill up the sky and the lands below. Thunder and the roar blended in together, such a hard terrifying medley he couldn't tell what was what. He started running, the sounds of the roar getting closer and closer. When it came again Dhoruba recognized it. It was deep, strong, the kind of roar he himself had uttered a few times. But his lead guardian had done so too. Maybe his late father-in-law, though he couldn't recall Amri ever roaring like this. Not even Taraji roared in such a manner.

Dhoruba gritted his teeth. His own father had, one too many times. But he did it to strike fear into his family and the pride. His father never cared about anyone, had no idea who he hurt. Or he did and he just didn't care. Yeah, that was it.

The storm was getting worse with each passing moment but Dhoruba pressed on harder until, without warning, he stopped in tracks. The sight ahead of him, at least several feet away, made him cringe, made his eyes widen in pure horror, made him remember things he rarely thought about, things he kept to himself. But this… even in a dream it would be a miracle if he kept it to himself.

A lioness was on the ground, on her back, her forepaws trying to push away whatever or whoever was on top of her. Dhoruba was rooted where he stood. He wanted to move, to help, but any attempt on his part was futile. He was stuck and he had no idea why. He tried moving, looked at the lioness and on the thing that had her pinned. He couldn't see what it was but it was strong, that much he could see. Whatever held the lioness down was shrouded by a cloud of darkness, but it had a strong figure. Almost like a…

Dhoruba heard himself growl. There was only one thing he knew strong enough to pin down a lioness – a lion. "Hey!" he shouted, trying with all his might to move from his spot. "Get off her! Leave her alone!"

But the lioness and the figure could not hear him. He grunted, growled and roared out. Neither acknowledged him. It was as if he was a ghost.

"Rahimu!" he called out. "If you're there, help me make sense of this!" He roared again, felt the deep painful pounding of his heart and heard the thunder all around him. His ears felt deafened. Flashes of lightning covered the sky, illuminating the lands. He wished it would strike him. Maybe it would wake him up and get him out of this nightmare because that's what this was – a full-fledged nightmare, one he wished would end.

"Please sire, don't do this!"

Dhoruba's ears pricked up at that. It was the lioness. _Sire… Does she mean the King or a Prince?_ He shook his head, chiding and telling himself that it didn't matter. This lioness was being hurt and there was nothing he could do about it. He thought he heard the figure speak, but maybe it was his imagination. He hoped it was. He hoped all of this was happening in his mind, but a part of him knew that it wasn't.

He was dreaming all of this. The smell of blood was part of the nightmares that had frequented his sleep for far too long. Now he wanted out. He felt himself becoming desperate. He cried out to the heavens again, "Lord Rahimu! Are you there? If you can do anything get me out of here!" Tears stung at his eyes. He felt his soul ache. His heart became pained. Then he heard a small voice that made him look ahead once more, this time to the side.

"Momma…?"

It was a cub, male, if Dhoruba saw correctly. He too was rooted to the spot. He was shaking. His eyes were on his mother and tears fell down his cheeks.

Then the lioness spoke again, to her cub. "Run my son, run!" she yelled in fear.

Any other words she wanted to speak were choked out of her by, from what Dhoruba could see, the figure's paw on her throat. He growled again but still he couldn't move. Rage burned within him. His blood boiled and his head pounded with pain. He gasped and growled, shaking it. Images filled his mind of other lionesses dying, of their cubs watching before being killed themselves. He heard echoes in his ears, the calls of fear, worry and utter despair. He wanted to collapse under the weight.

Dhoruba heard the cub yell for his mother again and watched in defeat as the figure moved for her throat. Then, in an unexpected turn of events, another lioness ran up and grabbed the cub. His mother spoke the lioness's name but Dhoruba didn't catch it. He watched as the cub was taken away from the gruesome sight. He stared at the young male, blinked, shut his eyes, shook his head and looked again. The cub looked familiar… didn't he? He had red hazel eyes and a red tuft of a future mane on his forehead. He looked almost like… No! It was impossible… wasn't it? It had to be. There was no resemblance… was there?

His ears flickered, thunder roared and he faced the figure again. It was a lion, of that Dhoruba was sure, and from what he was able to see the lion's muzzle was covered in blood, his teeth stained crimson. Dhoruba shuddered. He wanted throw up. He wanted to break free and attack the figure. But this was a dream. He couldn't do a thing.

The figure spoke in pleasurable fury. "Yes! Run… but you'll be next!"

The words sent a hard cold chill throughout Dhoruba's body. He couldn't get rid of it. He felt himself shake and tremble. His rage at seeing all of this only grew as a sharp painful rain began to fall from the darkened skies. His body ached. Each rain drop stabbed him. The thunder grew worse and there seemed to be no end to the lightning. It was all around now. In front of Dhoruba, behind, to the right, to the left, and with each new strike the lands were shrouded in its beautiful but terrifying glow.

Rain pounded on his head, stinging his back, his paws and his muzzle, soaking him. With his front claws he scratched the grass and dirt underneath his paws with as much force as he could. He raised his head up to the skies one more time and screamed at the top of his lungs. "Rahimu… Lord! Why do you forsake?"

He roared out again, as hard and as loud as he could. Not that anyone could hear him, but he had to do something.

"It's not Rahimu who forsakes," he heard a voice say.

He looked to the side, his jaw dropping in fear. The figure… but how…?

"But he does judge the right and the wicked. And he will judge you one day too for your sins."

"Wh-what sins?"

"Oh I think you know. Get ready to meet him!" Then the figure launched himself at Dhoruba.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

He snapped his eyes open, his head shot up. He was panting and his heart was pounding so hard he was afraid someone could hear it, that it would come out of his chest at any moment. But nothing of the sort happened. His eyes wide, his breathing hard he looked around. He was in a cave. He was home. The nightmare finally ended. He set his eyes to the back. Were they… Yes! Jibade and Mpenzi were in their respective corners, sleeping peacefully. He hadn't woken them, thank Rahimu.

Then he slowly turned, looking to the side. Kesha was there too, still sleeping. He was glad he hadn't disturbed her. She'd had a rough day as it was. He studied her, thankful for her presence. This nightmare had been the worst one yet. He wanted to wake her up and tell her, but he didn't have it in him to do so.

He felt his heart beat and his breathing slow. He felt himself return to reality. He was home with his family. He laid his head down on his paws, fearful to close his eyes so he lay awake. He knew he would have to see Ibada, but even to the shaman he wasn't sure how to voice this, if he could at all. He wasn't sure he could tell Kesha.

_Kesha…_ His eyes fell on her again. He wanted to hear her voice, see her eyes. He swallowed and moved his head close to hers. "I love you," he said quietly.

As he tried to close his eyes he heard her speak.

"I love you too."

With that he was able to surrender himself to a comforting and restful sleep.


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** A THOUSAND apologies for the 5-month delay in this chapter. It feels like an eternity, really, but I had a very extremely difficult time with what to do with it, and deciding how much to put in and what to leave out. I am deeply sorry, and hope this makes up for it. After this, things should start to progress.

So, enough with my talking and onward…

**Chapter 10**

When he was young, Ibada knew that he'd been called to be a shaman. Of all his species he loved praying to Rahimu. The other monkeys did too, but not as deeply or as much as he. Ibada made his time with the Creator an everyday thing. He prayed before gathering and eating his fruit. He prayed with the animals he helped before and after. Whenever he had trouble sleeping – which was a rare occurrence – he prayed. He was devoted to Rahimu and His ways.

His old master taught him everything he knew about shamanism, and Ibada felt blessed by the Lord to have been trained by such a devoted servant. In the early days of his training Ibada was determined to be fiercely devoted like his teacher.

He never counted the years he had been a shaman, there was no point. Only the pleasure of serving the Creator of all things was enough, and Ibada considered that time well spent. He enjoyed treating animals for one small injury or another, giving them herbs so they could sleep. He treated a few major wounds for the lionesses who hunted for their King and the pride.

When he wasn't working, eating or praying he visited to his family who still lived in the eastern trees of the kingdom. While his mother showed interest in his life has a shaman, his father wanted no part of it. Ibada knew why and, in some ways, he understood. His father wanted him to live like a monkey. To find a mate, have young ones and provide for them on a daily basis. But that wasn't the life for him and Ibada knew as much while growing up.

Oh he had a happy childhood. He played with his friends, spent time with either his mother or father, but even they knew that Ibada had been different, that he had been set apart from all others. Before they would gather to eat, Ibada suggested they pray to Rahimu for guiding his father and keeping him safe when he left to find food. Such suggestions stunned his father and though he loved Rahimu he never felt it necessary to thank him for everything every day. So Ibada, honoring his father's wishes, prayed in his heart and after his parents slept he would jump out of his bed and the tree and swing to another and climb all the way to the top where he could almost touch the stars in the sky and ask Rahimu to forgive his father for ignoring the blessings. Ibada made it a nightly routine.

Then there was one time Ibada was preparing to swing through the trees with his friends when the shaman came to see his mother. Ibada had eavesdropped on their conversation and heard that when he was just a newborn in his mother's arms the shaman believed Rahimu had touched him with a special gift. He shrugged off the idea, thinking it ludicrous.

It wasn't until one of his friends fell out of a tree and hurt his leg that Ibada felt a deep longing to help animals who suffered in some way. Days later he came to the shaman's home and told him of his desire to help the injured and the sick. Ibada poured out his hope to do something good with his life and, in doing so, glorify Rahimu.

All these years later he remembered his master's reply.

"I knew the day I saw you wrapped in the safety loving arms of your mother that Rahimu had a very special plan for you. I could feel it all the way to my soul. When I returned here after making that visit I heard Rahimu say that before you were even born, He set you apart to do His work."

The shaman placed his hand on the young monkey's shoulder. Their eyes met and the older one smiled warmly. "I think you can do this. I know you can do this. It's been imprinted on your heart by Rahimu Himself." He removed his hand and looked away. Then he stood up and walked to the edge of his home. "It won't be easy, you know. A job like this takes patience. You're going to have to trust in Rahimu, no matter what." He turned back to his young wanna-be charge. "Think you can handle what will come?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his dark gray eyes looking into light brown.

Young Ibada stood up, meeting the older monkey's eyes. "This is what Rahimu wants me to do. It's what _I_ want to do, so if He is for me, who can be against me?"

"Well said, my student. But it's not just a matter of that. Your father…"

"I love him. That will always be true, but… I am willing to leave them for what Rahimu has planned."

A few hard questions and equally hard answers later, the two monkeys prayed and Ibada left the shaman's with reassurance that this was his life calling. He told his parents the next day. His father, as Ibada expected, told him to leave and that if he wanted to come back and visit he could.

"But don't expect me to talk to you. I wanted you to do what I did. I wanted you to be proud of it, of the way we live. It's Rahimu's blessing."

Ibada shook his head at his father's words and spoke in a sad voice. "So is what I'm doing."

After hugging his mother, telling her he would visit as often as he could he jumped out of the tree he'd been raised in and swung for the tree that housed shamans of the Western Plains.

Now Ibada lay in his grass bed, eyes on the light blue sky he could see through the leaves of the tree. It was so beautiful, as was his home, created and fashioned by Rahimu Himself with His own paws, or hands or whatever. The important thing was that everything had a Creator.

Taking this time to relax, he thought about the lion pride, about their new member Akanni. He wondered if things were well, but he also wondered about the King. He wanted to drop by but he knew he had to be patient. Something about King Dhoruba's nightmares gnawed at him for days, that the lion's suffering was going to continue unabated and grow worse the longer the ruler delayed in seeing him.

His master said he would have to be patient. He'd been so confident, so sure back then. He longed for that now. He longed to be sure Dhoruba would come, confident that the King trusted him enough for help. And he had to be confident and certain in himself that he could.

He rolled out of his grass bed to his knees and started praying. It was how he always began his day and he wasn't about to stop. He'd been doing it for so long he wasn't sure what he'd do if he missed a day.

He prayed the same prayer over again, the one he'd been praying from the last time he saw the King. "If he comes today, Lord, guide me, give me knowledge and understanding. Help me to help him. I don't want to let him… or you down."

He stayed that way for a long time, listening and waiting. The reassurance and peace he felt in his spirit in that moment was enough to calm his anxious mind.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Prince Jibade believed that the new member was settling in to the ways of the Western Plains just fine. He walked beside the lion, studying him, wondering what he was thinking. Jibade chuckled softly and shook his mane. He would never admit it – unless he had to – but he was glad to have another lion accompany him on patrol. He found Akanni to be good company. Sure the red maned male was quiet but Jibade thought it was a good thing, a nice change of pace.

_At least he doesn't ramble on about how some things should never be – no matter the circumstances, whether they're good or bad,_ the Prince thought with a flash of anger and irritation in his eyes. He shook it off, shut his eyes, told himself to get a grip. He had hoped his anger and frustration with Hadhari would be gone in a few days.

It was to no avail.

His heart beat in his chest and a stab of hurt followed. He loved the guardians son like a brother, had hoped to name him the next lead guard when Jibade became King in the future. But the more he saw Hadhari's coldness against Akanni the more he started to reconsider the idea. It was even a wasted option because Hadhari would take the position himself when his parents got too old for it.

Jibade looked at the surrounding area. Some animals were here and there, doing their own thing. Upon seeing their Prince they stopped whatever they did – talking, drinking from the small ponds of water or eating from the grasses – and bowed their heads in respect. He returned the gesture. Confusion covered his face when he saw Akanni do the same. Why would he bow his head to the animals? Was he royalty?

The Prince dismissed such a question. No, that was impossible… wasn't it?

Hadn't these animals or their parents, wondered about Jibade's own father, their current King? Did it even matter?

Jibade's whiskers twitched and he forced himself to focus. Akanni was a strange lion sure but he was here to stay. He was also the most patient and loyal lion Jibade had yet to know. Before the new male's arrival he wanted to put Hadhari in such a light. But he couldn't now. He wasn't even sure he knew Hadhari anymore and he wasn't alone.

The day before Nasila told him that while she loved her brother he was being much too serious about Akanni and whether he posed some kind of threat. "Everyone in the pride knows that he doesn't," the lioness said with a roll of her eyes.

Jibade smiled at that and kept himself from laughing quietly. He thought nothing could get under Nasila's fur, but Hadhari could, especially when he acted like a calm lion one moment then wild the next for no reason. Jibade replied that while Akanni had been part of their pride for a short time he was trustworthy.

"Maybe more than Hadhari," the Prince continued with a shrug. "And Akanni isn't even a guard."

Nasila shook her head and looked away. "I think you're right," she said quietly as her emotions threatened to build up. "I love my brother, Jibade, but these days he only pesters me with how Akanni should be kicked out for being a rogue." The lioness's front claws came out and she gripped the grass blades. "Doesn't he realize that your father was a rogue?" she asked in a strained and hurt voice.

Jibade moved close and laid his head near hers, purring softly. "As far as I know I think I'm the only one who knows that my father was born into royalty. That he left of his own free will and stumbled upon these lands when he was near death, 'Sila."

When she pulled away, after giving him a kiss on the cheek with her tongue, she asked if his mother knew.

"No. I'm not sure my father has ever told her. But it's his choice if he does."

"Your parents love each other so it shouldn't matter. They're good together, good rulers."

"Do you think that of Akanni and your sister?"

The lioness sent him a glare that said, 'never ask again'.

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile.

She laughed. "No. That look was for Hadhari but since he's not here…" She looked at the grass, then at Jibade. "I do think Akanni and Johari _are_ good for each other. Father has already forbidden Hadhari from harassing them, but I doubt he'll listen. Johari is strong with an independent mind; she can take care of herself. She likes Akanni so she's not going to let anyone talk bad about him."

"Does Akanni care for her?"

The question caused Nasila to think and Jibade gave it to her. Then she spoke. "He's been alone for some time, but I think, in his own way, he does."

That conversation was enough for Jibade and he knew she was right. He saw in Akanni what Nasila, her parents, his parents, his sister and, Johari also saw while Hadhari couldn't. Akanni had come to this kingdom close to death. He had been a lion starved of food, suffered from lack of water and a good place to sleep. He was a lion that kept all his claws out in order to survive the kind of lion or other animal that meant harm.

Coming to the Western Plains, albeit, on the back of one willing lion and another who would rather let him die on the borders, was the best thing that ever happened. Here, Akanni was getting a new start in a place where he didn't have to worry about where his next meal was going to come from, where he was going to sleep, or whether the water he drank was safe.

In the Western Plains he could have peace, find freedom and be part of a pride of lions and lionesses that thought of others before themselves.

Jibade swallowed a lump in his throat as he once again thought of his best friend. _You used to be one of those lions, Hadhari… What happened to you? Where's that cub-like innocence you once held? Where's that cub-like love of Rahimu you kept so deep inside you? The same kind of love you let move in you when we were so young?_

Willing that he not let his eyes produce tears he prayed that Rahimu would somehow lead Hadhari back to Him. If there was anything that Jibade did not want – aside from not wanting to fail his parents when his time to lead the kingdom came, among other things – he did not want to lose Hadhari to a hardened heart. _Rahimu, I know I have no right to ask… But, please, I know you love Hadhari and I know you don't want to lose him anymore than the rest of us do. You can do all things, Lord._

Without realizing it he slowed and stopped altogether, his head low. He felt his eyes close. His ears flickered. He heard a voice.

"Prince Jibade, are you all right?"

The black maned lion jerked, felt his legs and the rest of his body tremble. He forced his eyes open, moved his head to the owner of the voice and stared into kind but concerned red colored eyes. The inside of his mouth dried. He shook his mane a little and tried to speak. "Y-yes, I'm okay. Thanks Akanni." He blinked hard and barely realized that he was shivering.

"Your Highness, shall we stop and rest?"

Unable to speak this time, Jibade watched his friend look around.

"There's a waterhole not too far." He pointed with a paw.

The Prince looked. The waterhole was to the east and, to his relief there was an acacia tree with plenty of shade. Maybe a rest was what he needed. "Let's go," he said dryly.

After they drank from the waterhole they went over to the tree to rest in its shade. Jibade's tail swished softly. Akanni had a distant look on his face and the Prince wondered what his friend was thinking. If Hadhari were here he would openly criticize the Prince for even thinking about calling Akanni a friend. But how could he not? Akanni had done no wrong, other than fall on their borders, close to death. Jibade's parents had done the right thing in let him stay. Even Johari had done right and stayed with Akanni while he recovered from his wounds.

In fact, as far as Jibade knew, Johari was still staying in Akanni's chambers for the simple reason that the two shared some kind of connection. The Prince trusted Akanni with the lioness. He knew the red maned lion wouldn't hurt her. _You've been through enough… All you've endured… I admire you,_ he thought with a smile.

"I love this place," he heard Akanni say. "For the first time in my life, I feel at home."

"That's good. I'm also glad my parents and everyone could help."

Akanni smiled back. _You would have loved it here too, Shabihi. I'm sure of it._ His heart ached a little every time he thought of his adopted mother. But with each day that passed since she died the pain lessened. Not much, but some. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Emotion filled him all the way to his soul.

"Are you okay?"

In the quiet atmosphere and the small breeze that suddenly came up Akanni did not startle. He opened his eyes again and stared at the lion who couldn't have been more than a few years younger than he if not more. "I wasn't always alone," he heard himself say. "I… grew up out there." He gestured to the unknown world with a swift movement of his head. "I grew up with my mother, her name was Shabihi. When I was a cub, it was hard, but somehow, I guess with Rahimu watching over us we survived." With that he began talking about the lioness who had been the mother of his life, the only lioness he had ever truly known until several days ago.

Jibade stayed silent as he listened. What admiration filled him for this lion, this new member of his parents' pride, was replaced by more and added with sadness and deep sympathy. While he never knew what it was like to lose a family member his compassion went out for Akanni. He had lost the only lioness in his life and still found strength and courage to move forward, to live life without her and to find the Western Plains when he needed a home.

As he listened to Akanni tell a story of his cubhood, he remembered when he started growing his mane.

_His mother approached him with a smile. It was an important day. His father was going to take him to meet with the animal representatives, to show that their Prince was no longer a cub, but a lion._

"_Your life changes from here on, Jibade," Queen Kesha said. "Remember everything your father and I have taught you. Remember our lessons about Rahimu."_

"_I will, Mother," he said confidently, and a sharp look in his eyes told her he would._

"_When your mane is fully grown, the animals will start to look to you for guidance, leadership and protection. They will also look to see if you follow Rahimu and His ways."_

_Prince Jibade nodded at every word, taking them to heart. "I will, always."_

_Kesha smiled. "But there is something very important that you must know. I'm going to tell you, not your father. He and I agreed to it."_

"_What?"_

"_If you see anyone, whether you know them or not, whether they are your friend or enemy and they're hungry, give them food. If they are thirsty, lead them to a waterhole. And if they are tired…"_

"_Show them a place to rest?"_

_Kesha almost did a double take, but didn't. "If they're sick take them to a shaman. This is what Rahimu requests of us. Anyone who does these things and does them with love in their hearts, are His children. My son, are you a son of our Lord?"_

_Prince Jibade smiled and bowed his head humbly. "Yes."_

_They shared a loving nuzzle and the young lion left to join his father._

Jibade thought about his mother's words while listening to Akanni. His family and his pride pleased Rahimu when they took this lion in. Jibade knew that if he had been King, he would follow in his grandfather and father's pawprints without hesitation. What they had done for Akanni, what the former King Amri had done for the lion Dhoruba, their current leader, and what Jibade himself would do if he and his pride were in a similar situation when he was King, the same actions would be taken.

They would follow Rahimu, they would do His will. They would treat others as they would want to be treated. They knew no other way to be.

It was their life, it bound them together.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"I've been worrying you, haven't I?"

Queen Kesha turned to her mate and cast her eyes down a little at the sight of him. Dhoruba looked ragged eyes were near bloodshot. She was surprised he could see, that he could move, surprised he didn't close his eyes against the light of the sun after being in the dark for so long.

But they were out here on the ledge in the middle of the morning. They had slept in, a rare thing for them. When they woke, Jibade and Mpenzi were gone and both parents believed their son and daughter wanted to take care of things so they could sleep in. Prince Jibade sent out the guardians and was probably patrolling himself while his sister was with the hunting party.

Kesha smiled. Princess Mpenzi was not the new hunt mistress, not officially. But like her mother she led her team with dignity and respect. Kesha knew the older lionesses treated her daughter well, not because of her royal status but for the way Mpenzi treated others. She taught her daughter that respect was earned, not given, and those teachings, among others over the years had been worth it. Mpenzi would make sure the lionesses got a good catch, that everyone would be safe. If anything happened she could handle it.

The Queen felt a sharp jolt in her body, remembered her mate's question and looked at Dhoruba. "You have," she said softly.

The dark brown lion sighed. "I know you want me to see Ibada…" He swallowed and paused, nearly choking on his next words. Could he tell her? _Of course you can! The worst she can do is judge you and she wouldn't do that. She loves you!_ He felt her paw on his.

"What is it, Dhoruba?" she asked softly.

"I'm worried he won't be able to help. Sounds stupid, I know. I haven't even seen him in a while and I…" Dhoruba felt his mate nuzzle his shoulder and managed to continue. "The nightmares are getting worse. But you already know that." He pulled away and chuckled ruefully. "Look at me. I'm a mess and I feel like I haven't slept in days."

Dhoruba stared at his paws, knowing deep down he was delaying or stalling or whatever he could call it. But he had to wonder what he was truly afraid of. Whether Ibada could help him or whether he would look weak?

_Asking for help is for the weak,_ his father used to say. _I'm a King, and you will be too one day. __**Never**__ ask for help. If you do, your pride will start talking about you, about how if you can't handle your own problems you won't be able to handle theirs. Not that you should. All the lionesses do is hunt for you, and if they have problems, they should be able to figure how to solve them. They shouldn't have to come to you when you're keeping your kingdom safe from rogues who want your land and your pride for themselves. Trust no one except yourself. And don't even bother with that fool of a shaman who spends her time helping the idiot animals who get themselves into trouble, and looks at the stars, praying to a god who doesn't even exist._

Dhoruba's front claws came out and he tapped them on the stone ground. His eyes burned, his lips curled into a soft, dangerous snarl and a low growl filled his throat. He suddenly wanted to go hunting. His mouth yearned for the taste of blood from a freshly killed carcass. He wanted to sink his claws into a targeted prey's flesh. But he also wanted to sleep. He wanted to never dream again. He wanted to forget his father's dangerous, unmerciful words. He wanted to forget that his father's memory still haunted him after all these years.

He wanted, desperately, to remember Kesha's father King Amri, the lion he loved like a second father. He wanted to remember words of honor, justice, mercy, love and righteousness. He missed Amri. He was the lion Dhoruba himself had wanted to be for the rest of his life.

Now he wasn't sure what he was. Shivers and tremors overtook his body.

Alarmed, Kesha spoke worriedly. "Dhoruba… are you all right?"

He quivered, begged himself to regain control. _Come on, pull yourself together! You know you have to see Ibada. He's a shaman for goodness sake. He's dedicated his life to helping others and serving Rahimu in the process. He __**wants**__ to help! _

Dhoruba turned to his mate. "Kesha, will you come with me to see Ibada?" He felt himself manage a coy, embarrassed smile. "I don't think I could without you. I also think this is going to be our day off." He chuckled softly at that. This was the first day to themselves they'd had in a while.

His Queen looked at him and nuzzled his face with hers. "I was hoping you would ask." She licked his cheek, pulled away and said, "You'd do the same for me."

"I would," he said sincerely. "I would never leave you to deal with something like this alone. Come on."

The King rose from his spot and Kesha followed. When they were in the grass Dhoruba moved his head to hers. "I love you."

She purred softly. "I love you too, Dhoruba."

Their walk turned into a run, then a race. Dhoruba praised Rahimu in his spirit, thankful for his mate, his pride and his family. It also kept the dark voices of his father and another force far from his mind.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Ibada was almost pleased that he had no one to treat for any kind of injury. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a day to himself and to have one now was almost foreign, strange. He found himself wanting to treat someone for something. He'd been a shaman too long to just be sitting around in his tree or even beside it, which he was now, to do anything less. Ibada took the last bit of a sweet tasting fruit, which served as his midday meal in his hands, turned it over and finally put it into his mouth. The great taste filled his mouth and he closed his eyes, content.

"Rahimu," he prayed, "if not helping animals today is your way of giving me peace… thank you."

_My servant, the animals of the lands don't need your help right now. But its leader does. He is coming._

Ibada opened his eyes and looked ahead. In the distance, coming closer and closer, he saw two familiar figures on four legs. With a smile he rose to his feet and when the lion and lioness stopped in front of him, Ibada bowed deeply. "Good morning, Your Majesties, what can I do for you?"

Dhoruba and Kesha exchanged glances. The Queen saw the uncertainty in her mate's eyes and tried to soothe his worry with a warm smile, as if saying, "You can trust him, sweetheart. You _need_ to talk to him."

The King nodded in resignation. She was right. He needed this. He pawed the grass, noticed how some areas were turning brown already. _When will the rain season come, Lord?_ He turned from Kesha to the shaman who waited patiently for either lion to speak. Dhoruba stared at Ibada, at his brown face and almost dark red fur, seeing some small grey streaks on the monkey's right upper shoulder. He shook himself, wondering if there were any signs of grey in his mane. _Kesha would've said so if she saw any… wouldn't she?_ He smiled a little, knowing she wouldn't. _She still sees me as the young lion that joined the pride so long ago._ He started to speak, slowly at first, his eyes going from the shaman to the ground at his paws.

"My dreams are getting worse, Ibada," Dhoruba said in a quiet dry voice, his eyes darting. "I-I…" Then he looked up into the monkey's dark blue eyes. "I need your help."

Ibada put his hands behind his back and nodded firmly. "Would you like Her Majesty to stay?"

For a moment, the King allowed himself to look upon his mate who stared back at him. Ibada bowed his head, knowing the silent conversation between the two was private, even if they were speaking with their eyes. It was something they shared. If he remembered right, King Amri and Queen Malkia shared the same.

"Kesha," Dhoruba said, speaking in whisper, while drawing his head close to his mate's, "I won't be upset if you don't want to listen. But I am glad you came."

"You asked me to," the lioness said with a smile.

"I know and it means a lot to me."

"See that pond of water, and the tree?" Kesha asked, nodding with her head behind him. He turned to it, then back to her replying with a nod of his own. "I'll be over there. I'm thirsty anyway," she added in a small laugh. "You'll be fine, Dhoruba. This is a start."

He nuzzled her. "I wish this wasn't such a burden on you."

She licked his cheek and pulled away. "We share burdens, Dhoruba. Just as we share triumphs and losses. You'd do the same for me."

"Yes. See you in a while?"

"You will." They nuzzled again and she walked to the pond and tree that rested some feet away.

When she was far enough from them, Ibada gently cleared his throat. "Sire, shall we get started?"

Dhoruba faced the shaman again. "Yeah… I've put this off long enough."

Ibada sat down in the grass, the King along with him, who lay down with his tail tucked at his side, his forepaws atop the other. "Start at the beginning, sire. It's always a good place."

The lion shrugged, felt a chill roll across his back. The beginning… It wasn't a good place to start, not for him. Dhoruba shut his eyes, knowing there was no other alternative. He took a deep breath and began, though he'd told the shaman about his dreams not too long ago. But it had been some time since they'd seen each other, so going back to what his nightmares were about wasn't a bad thing entirely. As he expected, Ibada stared at him, his eyes focused and intent. Dhoruba knew he was listening and was mildly pleased. When he was finished, he looked away, breathing deeply.

Ibada folded his hands and bowed his own head as if to pray.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The pride's meal consisted of leftovers. There was no need for a hunt, and the hunting party was grateful for it. Princess Mpenzi looked around, her navy blue eyes roaming to every member. She noticed some were anxious because they were hungry. She was too, but her parents weren't home. Her ears tipped back, her whiskers twitched and she looked down at her paws, wondering how she should handle this. Was anyone looking to her, going to ask her any questions about whether or not they should eat, or wait for her parents? She wondered where they were, and prayed they were alright.

"We should let them eat," said a voice at her side.

The Princess turned abruptly to see her brother. "When did you get here?" she asked with a slight roll of her eyes.

"Akanni and I returned a few moments ago, and I was talking to Nasila and her father." Jibade paused for a moment then looked beyond his sister to the pride. "They should eat and so should we."

"What about Mom and Dad?"

The Prince smiled. "They're okay, I'm sure of it. Besides, I don't think they would want the pride to wait."

Mpenzi shook her head. "How do you know?"

"I just do. Trust me."

She nodded and went with him to the front of the pride. There he said his parents were busy and everyone should eat because the King and Queen wouldn't want them to wait. The lionesses murmured among themselves but nodded to the young royals and soon stripped their pieces of the carcass. Then it was the guardians' turn, followed by the Prince and Princess.

"Has some been saved for Mom and Dad?" asked Mpenzi as she laid her paws over hers.

"Don't worry, sister," Jibade replied. "They'll have food when they come."

The meal was eaten with soft talk all around. The lionesses wondered where their leaders were, as did the guardians but the Prince's group did not. They put their faith in Rahimu, trusting that He would look after the monarchs and, if need be, provide them food. Just when conversation among the young lions and lionesses slowly began, one left.

Nasila dug her claws into her meal, growled and plunged her teeth in, blood covered her paws but she didn't care. She growled and tore into her meal. Jibade was beside her, his purr easing the tension she felt at her brother's departure. All knew why. The young guardian was still angry that Akanni was among them. He was furious that his younger sister had developed some kind of affection for newcomer. He wouldn't let it go, and Jibade, along with Nasila and possibly Mpenzi, were tired of it. Johari and Akanni however refused to acknowledge her brother's behavior. The red maned lion looked at her with gentle red eyes, offering a small reassuring smile that she returned.

Mpenzi chewed slowly, thoughtfully then she turned to her brother, nudging him under the chin with her bloodstained muzzle. "Aren't you going to talk to him?" she asked, referring to the now gone Hadhari.

Her brother shook his head. "There's no point. He's made it clear he wants nothing to do with Akanni." Jibade leaned close, eyeing Johari and the lion next to her, and whispered. "I never knew Hadhari could be so stubborn."

"Me neither," Mpenzi replied lowly and carried on eating.

Jibade looked around to see a content pride, relaxed guardians and his current group of friends at peace. He prayed the same for his parents.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"What did he say?" Kesha asked with a slight yawn. He had woken her a moment ago. The nap was good, what she needed. The air had turned cooler. The sun was setting, that much she could see from the changing sky, and the way the shadows on the ground seemed to multiply.

Dhoruba gave a near emotionless stare. "He said he could give me more sleeping herbs, but there are dangers if he does. I could be dependent on them or take too many and…" He shut eyes and growled quietly. "He doesn't want to put me in a position I couldn't come back from. It makes sense, but –" He paused, felt his limbs shake. "Kesha, I _**want**_ to understand these dreams. I want to talk to the lion who slaughtered an entire pride."

Kesha waited a moment before speaking. "Is that possible?" she asked, ears rising a little.

"I don't know. I could give it a try when I dream again, which may be tonight."

She nuzzled him gently. "If you do, I'll wake you."

He returned the gesture with a small smile. "Thanks."

She kissed his cheek. "Let's go home. I imagine we have a worried pride."

They started walking. "Maybe," Dhoruba agreed with a nod. "Or maybe our intelligent children made sure no one worried," he added with a sly smile, something Kesha hadn't seen from him in far too long.

When they returned to the cave, night had fallen, but no stars were out. It was a dark sky. The rulers prepared to step inside the cave but the smell of meat caught their attention. Looking to each other, it was Kesha who walked over to the right and sniffed the meat. It wasn't fresh; it was part of the carcass or carcasses that had been caught the day before. She turned to Dhoruba. "Should we?"

He shook his mane. "They saved it for us. That much is clear. Maybe Jibade told them to." He smirked, which surprised Kesha. For a lion that received bad news that their shaman couldn't do anything to help him with his nightmares without putting him in danger… He noticed the look on her face. "What'd I say?"

"Nothing, I'm just…" She turned her eyes back to the meat. Low pain gripped her stomach. "Let's eat." She took her selected piece in her jaws, walked away from the cave and lay down in the grass, the meat in paws. She bit into it hungrily.

Dhoruba joined her, but he ate his piece carefully. Kesha couldn't fool him. He knew her too well. Something was on her mind. "Talk to me," was all he said and he made sure his voice was firm to show that he was serious.

She glanced at him, ran her tongue along her mouth. "You were upset about Ibada's news not too long ago," she started carefully. "Now you're acting like it doesn't bother you."

"It _does_ bother me, Kesha. But I can't let how I feel about it make me feel anger. It's not Ibada's fault. If anything he's being cautious, and I'm okay with that." He sighed deeply, feeling his heart beat in his head instead of his chest. "He doesn't want me in a coma from too many herbs or worse. I don't want that either, and I know you certainly don't."

She nodded stiffly. "No, I don't… but what of your dreams, Dhoruba? They'll only get worse."

He shrugged. "I've dealt with that so much I'm used to it. When I figure out the meaning, I'll come to him again or send for him."

After that they said no more. After that they ate in companionable, knowing silence, now and again exchanging glances.

When there was nothing left of their meal but bones – neither realized how hungry they were – Dhoruba and Kesha went into the den, stepped carefully over the silently sleeping, sometimes snoring lionesses.

While Kesha looked into the guardians' chamber to see everyone there except Johari, she made her way to the royal cavern. Dhoruba stopped at the chamber where Akanni stayed. He wasn't surprised to see Johari in there, the two young lions sleeping only a few paw steps away from each other. He wondered, as he left to his own chamber, how long it would be before the lion sought Bukua and Ajia's permission to marry Johari. He thought it would be a good idea. The two were content and enjoyed each other's company. He hoped, when the time came, they would have the same happiness as him and Kesha.

He lay down beside his love and closed his eyes. It didn't take long for him to find himself in the same place. A place riddled with bones and smelled of blood. The only sounds were those of screams, cries and roars for help.

Then the frightening roar of a lion could be heard. The weather was different. It was raining along with flashes of lightning. He was cold, afraid. He heard the voice of a cub calling out for its mother, saw it run past him. Even in this setting the cub looked familiar but was he supposed to recognize it? He called out to the cub, but the effort was useless, much to his disappointment.

"Hello, Dhoruba," said a voice from behind him.

He turned around to see a shadowy figure. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet." The figure's claws came out. "But you will… when you are judged for your sins."

Before Dhoruba could reply the figure attacked and he woke up with a start. Kesha was awake. He turned to her panting heavily. "Did you?"

"Yes. You were twitching badly. Are you okay?"

Her concern always moved him. He laid his head on her shoulder. "I think… This one was –" He paused, having no words to describe it.

"We can talk in the morning, Dhoruba," she said quietly. Then she purred, a method that not only soothed her children to sleep when they were young, it always managed to comfort her distressed mate.

Her presence was always more than enough. He allowed himself to relax, but her last statement scared him. In the morning… would he be asleep in the morning? Would he be battling his mind to sleep? Was he close to the breaking point of never sleeping again for fear of all this?

After awhile leaning on his strong Queen, Dhoruba felt at ease. He pulled away but not before kissing her cheek. "Thank you."

She returned the gesture. "You're welcome." She then said a quick, but genuine prayer for him to have a peaceful sleep.

Dhoruba laid his head down but moved closer to Kesha. _Thank You for her, Rahimu._ His heart beat softly in his chest and he closed his eyes. The soft purrs of the lioness beside him, the peace he now felt throughout his entire being was enough to pull him into gentle slumber.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:** Okay, people, since it's close to Christmas, I'm not gonna be updating until after the beginning of the New Year. So, until then I bid you all a safe Christmas and peaceful New Year! :)


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** A billion apologies for not updating in a long time. Life, you know. Anyway, hope this makes up for my absence. Two chapters for you.

Enjoy :)

**Chapter 11**

Ibada rarely woke out of a night's sleep and the only time he did was when he couldn't sleep. For a shaman it was a rare occurrence unless something weighed heavily on their minds. Ibada never really had that problem. Now he was surprised to find his eyes open, staring at what looked to be a predawn sky. It was no longer a dark blue almost black color with stars. The moon hadn't even shined. This sky was gray and purple, eerie.

He stretched his arms and yawned. Then, thinking he was going to be up for a while, he rolled out of his grass bed and walked to the opening of his tree. It had been so long since he woke in the very early morning he almost didn't recognize the Western Plains, or what he could see of the kingdom from his high viewpoint. The sight never ceased to amaze him. No matter where he was the home of his birth a beautiful place. He had never been outside the kingdom to compare it to another.

"I'm not sure I'd ever want to, even temporarily," he said to no one. He felt himself smirk. While being in his line of work required sacrifices to avoid distraction, part of him wanted to have what others had – a family. He rubbed the back of his neck, chiding himself, and muttered, "What am I saying? Of course having a family _isn't_ distracting. I don't have one of my own, except Mom."

_And Dad,_ he added as an afterthought. Pain gripped his stomach. He hadn't seen either of his parents in a long time. Every encounter with his dad was the same.

"You could have lived this life, and still honor Rahimu. But instead you chose a life of solitude. You could have had more."

Whenever Ibada heard that he'd cringe. As much as he loved his mother he knew visiting wasn't worth being lectured about how he could have done what his father, grandfather, and any dead past member of the family did before. Yes, he could have and he knew it, but he wanted more, a life of fulfillment. To him that meant sacrificing any happiness he could have had with one of the female monkeys he knew while growing up.

Now and again he thought about what his life could have been. It was a happy thought but when it ended he knew being a shaman and helping others with spiritual or physical injuries was what he was supposed to do. He was called for it by Rahimu, and if his father didn't understand that then he didn't understand Rahimu or His ways.

Emotion filled the shaman's throat, squeezed his heart. His legs buckled. With a weak cry he fell to his knees and put his hands over his face. Tears threatened to come. He managed, with some difficulty to stifle back a sob that nearly strangled him. _Lord Rahimu,_ he prayed. _How can I love my father and still obey you? How do I honor him and respect him without turning my back on you?_ The tears streamed from his eyes. "Help me, God," he said as the pain squeezed his heart, tightening his chest. "Rahimu," he spoke in a strained whisper while shutting his eyes as hard as he could. "Hear me, please, Lord!" The pain hit him like hard rain smacked into the earth during the wet season.

_My son, my servant… Ibada, I am with you. And I love you as you love me._

He heard the words in his spirit and swallowed hard.

_I love you with an everlasting love. I will never turn from you, nor will I leave you._

The shaman wanted to open his eyes, but wasn't sure he could. Instead, he continued his silent plea. _Help me, please. I love my father, but I love you too. You are our Creator! What would we do without you? Where would we be?_ The pain of each unspoken word made his heart squeeze even tighter, nearly suffocating him.

_Ibada, my ways are not your ways, nor are they your father's. But I love you, no matter what, just as I love him._

Slowly the pain began to ease. _You are good, Rahimu. Your love never fails. Your mercy is everlasting, unlimited._ He rubbed his eyes and sniffed. _Thank you, Rahimu._ A chuckle escaped him, followed by a soft laugh. This silent talk with the Creator proved helpful.

He waited for a few minutes then stood up, looking out into the lands, and finally up at the sky. Brighter colors were in place of the gray and purple he'd seen earlier. The sun was about to rise.

Ibada put his hands behind his back and breathed a sigh of peace. "You make all things new," he said softly as he sniffed the air and looked about until a thought crossed his mind. He hadn't seen King Dhoruba in over three days. _Is that good or bad,_ he asked himself. Then he shrugged the question off.

His last conversation with the royal leader hadn't gone as he he'd hoped. But he had been truthful. He couldn't help the lion without putting him at risk or in danger. He refused to do either. Both options meant peril for the ruler, and it was his duty, as the shaman, to help not hinder. Whenever an animal of the lands came to him for one reason or another he had done his best to help them, however he could, as long as it didn't compromise his beliefs in how he should help them or in the way his teacher would have.

The situation with King Dhoruba made him wonder now _if_ he could help him.

Ibada sighed deeply, crossed his arms and hung his head. "Lord, how?" He heard himself chuckle ruefully as he asked, "Give me a sign," in a passive voice. Then he flinched, mentally kicking himself. "I shouldn't have done that," he muttered.

_Ibada…_

The shaman's ears resounded with the voice of Rahimu. He listened.

_Be patient and continue with working. Your King will need you sooner than you think._

Before he could almost utter the question of when, the excitement and anxiousness in his spirit stilled. So he would do what he always did – wait patiently.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

In the royal chamber, King Dhoruba slowly opened his eyes and raised his head, whiskers twitching. The darkness of the cave provided both comfort and fright. He swallowed hard then looked down at his sleeping Queen, who lay on her right side, her face in his direction, forepaws tucked under her cheek. She was perfectly still. She was…

_You're so beautiful Kesha,_ he thought as a smile crossed his face. If Jibade and Mpenzi weren't sleeping in the far back of the cave he would enjoy this rare, quiet morning with his wife. _But they are so I can't. That's okay. You need your sleep, beloved._ With a paw he gently stroked her cheek, glad and a little sad that his touch didn't wake her.

For the last three nights his nightmares progressed, each worse than the last. It was always the same, in the beginning at least. The echoes and cries of those who lost loved ones, the spine chilling roars of the one responsible. He'd call out and the murderer would challenge him. Dhoruba felt himself shake. The murderer knew his name, but why? _And why does he say that I will be judged for my sins? I've never committed any…_

_**Are you sure about that? The guy in your nightmares seems to think you have.**_

The lion shrugged. _No! He's a figment of the dream, that's all._ He continued to stare at his sleeping mate and spoke quietly. "You don't deserve this." He would never admit it out loud but her patience since the beginning of his nightmares unnerved him. He knew it was, in part, because of the way she was raised with a father like Amri who never really let anyone see his angry side (now that Dhoruba thought about it, he wasn't sure if his father-in-law _had_ one). The dark brown lion softly smiled. "You concealed it with great control, Amri… Father…" Emotion rose in his throat as he wondered if the last King could have helped him. A moment later he shook his head. No. Amri was a one of a kind lion, someone who loved Rahimu, followed Him and instilled the teachings into his children. But he wasn't a miracle worker, neither was Ibada. He had to figure out the meanings on his own.

Dhoruba shut his eyes and turned his face away from his wife. Another thing he would never admit out loud was that he admired how she and her brother, King Taraji, had been raised by two Rahimu believing parents and because of their rule the Western Plains, the animals and the lion pride flourished. He could never say so of the lands he came from. Their King was a tyrant and wanted his son to be exactly like him, maybe worse. And his mother did nothing while he suffered at his father's claws.

_You just stood by while he beat me._

_Blow after blow, blood soaked the large claws. Anger, rage, and sorrow grew. The grass was stained crimson, and the nearly unrecognizable body of –_

Dhoruba blinked his eyes and shook his mane. Taking one last look at his dear mate, fear gripping him, he got to his paws, exited the chamber and made his way outside where he sat on the stone ledge, his paws almost at the tip. He looked down, swallowed at the site below and faced the lands ahead, watching. The sun's light bathed everything it could reach. Dhoruba smiled, remembering how Amri used to do this – sometimes with his mate, the late Queen Malkia, sometimes with Kesha or Taraji. _Sometimes with me, just as I do now with Kesha and our children._

His ears flickered, his gaze dropped as an unbidden thought came. _You never did this, did you Father? No, you were too busy…_ His head snapped forward, eyes unfocused.

_A male cub cries out as claws rake across his back. The vicious snarl of the King echo in his ears which slowly move at the sound of a female voice. The King's name is muffled so he can't hear it._

"_Papa," he sniffs only to receive another blow. This time he didn't cry out. A few long heartbeats later he hears the King leave and feels the warm presence of his mother who gently runs her tongue along his body, being mindful of the scars he would carry, scars that would heal over time physically, not emotionally. The damage of his father's cruelty had left another mark on his heart._

Dhoruba's body jerked and he was unaware of his front claws coming out of his paws. A deep, dangerous growl seized his throat. He felt like he was in another place and time. Thoughts raced through his mind, images flashed before his eyes and his heart squeezed.

He and his father patrolled. There was a shiver and his father chastised him, called him a weakling, among other things. He remembered stifling a growl of anger. He'd closed his eyes but couldn't shut out the words his father had spoken to him that chilly, dark cloudy day. _I thought I put it out of my head!_

"Keep an eye for any intruders… Don't screw up… There will be consequences!"

Dhoruba felt the blood in his body begin to boil. He had done what he was told to do, but then… "What happened next?" he whispered. "Rahimu, help me make sense of this."

He had done as he was told and hated it. He hated the way his father treated him, how he expected him their actions to match – cold, uncaring, cruel and heartless. He didn't want to be like that. The cubs of the pride were afraid of his father, and they were even afraid of him too.

Dhoruba's mind hurt. He thought was going to pass out. As the shaking and trembling increased he forced himself to move from the ledge. But he didn't sit back on his haunches. He stood instead, rooted to the ground, forcing himself to make sense of things he hadn't thought of in years. "No… this isn't how it happened. I-I left. I ran. Didn't I?" His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed. _Something's off. Should I continue?_ With a sigh that filled his whole body he did just that. He closed his eyes, searched his memory.

He remembered comparing his father to a storm that was beginning to brew – violent, unrelenting and merciless. He didn't want to be like the storm or his father and grandfather, who according to the lionesses, was just as bad in the way he treated the pride and his family.

A violent tremor worked through Dhoruba's body. _I __**never**__ wanted to be like that! What happened?_ The images of the coming storm, the dark clouds intensity and the way his father… He searched for him, found him, was reprimanded for 'not listening'. What he said, the memories of being beaten over innocent, harmless things…

Dhoruba shook, his legs trembling. He wanted to fall down on his stomach and bury his head in his paws. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter but the image remained. His father fell and he attacked, hitting, clawing, growling and snarling. Blood covered his paws; his teeth stained crimson red. Then it was over. The image showed him staring at his father's bloody corpse, but it wasn't enough. Something told him that it wasn't just his father who had to be punished.

Dhoruba gritted his teeth and snarled softly. _Mother… You did nothing!_ Another image flashed, one that made him sit up, but it didn't remove the look in his eyes. The soft snarl became a growl. He shook his head. The claws on all four paws came out and buried themselves into the rocky surface. He licked his lips, his eyes widening. "Blood?" he said in a frightened voice. He licked his lips again. The taste was still there. Everything flooded back.

With a growl he ran straight for the grasses but the heat in his body remained even as he ran to the nearest waterhole. The images continued to play in his head – the bloodied corpse of his mother, the urge to make those who did not help him when his father harmed him pay. "Rahimu… Did I?" But he knew the answer before he uttered the prayer, if it could be called one. "I… sinned. I killed and blocked it."

_You're a disgrace!_

He tried to shut out the voice he hadn't heard it in so long. _Father…_

_You killed me, your mother and the pride you were supposed to rule. You even killed the shaman._

_You forced my paw. If you hadn't beaten me –_

The war in his head continued. He growled, snarled and did everything he could not to roar and release his sorrow.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Akanni's eyes opened, his body shaking a little. Slowly, he raised his head and looked around his cave. _Everything appears to be alright,_ he thought. His whiskers twitched, his ears fell while his gaze dropped to the ground. He stared at his paws musingly as a tremor worked its way through his body and knowing why he woke he closed his eyes. _There's a reason,_ he thought again with absolute certainty.

With a soft grunt he rose to his paws, turned his head just to the right and walked over to the figure that had been sleeping in his chamber with him since he arrived in the Western Plains. He stared down at the young lioness, not ready to go out and contemplate why he woke. Instead he took the time to study her, respectfully. Akanni wasn't the kind of lion to lust after a lioness. He hadn't been around one his age, or even a few moons or _years_ younger than himself in so long he wasn't sure if he was capable of it.

The last daughter of the guardian Bukua was beautiful; he couldn't deny that, even in his mind. He watched her as she slept, still on her stomach, with one forepaw atop the other, her head resting there. She looked so serene, so at peace. _Content,_ he thought with a small pang of envy that wasn't aimed at her but him. This was the first time he had woken out of a sound sleep and it scared him. He hadn't done that in a long time, not in the early days of Shabihi's death when he would dream he was a cub and they would play. She always tried to make their life outside of a kingdom as fun as possible, given that they'd lost everything near and dear to them.

Akanni's body jerked and he shook his head, blinking hard at the wall in front of him. Then his eyes fell once more to Johari, a smile on his face. If the time ever came he wasn't sure he could thank her for staying with him, especially now. He had been fully healed for some time. He didn't need her to look after him anymore. His ears went back, his curiosity suddenly piqued. _Why_ was she still here?

The lion closed his eyes, imagining his chamber without her. After a few strong beats of his heart he opened his eyes and stared at Johari, feeling a strange peace and comfort. He'd experienced something similar with Shabihi, but she was a mother to him. His heart beat strong in his chest. Bukua's second daughter was unlike any lioness he'd ever known. She was compassionate, loving and wasn't afraid to speak her mind. He knew that as much as she loved her brother, Hadhari, she wasn't going to stand to have him talk badly of a lion he didn't know, and refused to.

Akanni laughed softly. He liked that about her. She respected and loved her friends who were becoming his. He'd lived so long without any. She was the same with her parents because he had seen her interact with them.

If she was flawed in any way he had yet to see it, and if she was… He stopped the thought cold. _Don't get ahead, Akanni. Don't ruin this._ For years he had been uncertain whether he and Shabihi would find a good pride. But he had, and Shabihi wasn't here experience it. _Don't think about that. She's with Rahimu, roaming His kingdom where there is no fear, death, sadness or pain. Isn't that what she taught you? That the kingdom of the Lord is different than any other in this realm of the living?_

He shuddered at the thought of Shabihi in the presence of the One that the shaman of their old kingdom praised constantly, the same Lord the inhabitants of the Western Plains praised without ceasing. They saw Rahimu in everything, from the rising sun to its setting. They even prayed for the souls of their kills!

The more he spent time with Prince Jibade, his sister, with Johari and her sister, the more Akanni wished he'd been born here. He would have had the kind of upbringing where praising Rahimu was something to celebrate and be proud of. He would've felt the blessings of the Lord on him every day of his life. He would have been honored to learn more about Him from the King.

As if on cue his thoughts wandered to King Dhoruba. He didn't know much, wasn't sure he wanted to because it wasn't his place, and he didn't know the ruler very well _to_ ask. What he learned was from Prince Jibade who wasn't afraid to inform those closest to him about his father. To Akanni's surprise that included him. Maybe the Prince trusted him, didn't see him as another Hadhari. _Or he knows how grateful I am to the King and Queen for letting me stay._ Another smile crossed his face and gratitude filled him. _I am_. _More than they'll ever know._

His old home had been brutally spilled in the blood of innocents and his real mother. The pain of losing her had lessened over time, but never fully healed. He didn't expect it to. Had he woken to think about this? The Western Plains, how everyone lived their lives, how worshiping Rahimu was not something to be feared or forbidden – the rulers encouraged it – and how he felt about Johari still staying with him.

He sighed and turned his eyes back to the lioness, emotion filling him. He wasn't sure about his feelings for her, if he had any at all. _Do I?_ It was a strange question to ask, even in thought. He shook his mane; he'd figure it out later.

Trying to stifle a yawn but not succeeding, Akanni walked over to Johari and laid down a paw step away at her side. As he put his head down and closed his eyes a smile crossed his face. In the back of his mind, a saying that Shabihi once told him when he was young returned. _Lord you are good. Your mercy and love always endures._ Never had truer words been spoken by someone he loved so dearly.

Not long after, his eyes opened again. He raised his head and gently stroked Johari's back with a paw. He wasn't sure if he admired her or if he was falling in love with her. All he knew was that he cared deeply for Johari and hoped that would be enough.

Akanni ran his tongue along his lips, quick to taste the dryness. Getting up he walked to the entrance of his chamber, then stopped and turned, looking back at Johari. _She'll be alright without me_.

With a fond smile he made his way out of his cave, and out of the main den into the morning. He yawned loudly, tongue hanging out of his mouth, stretched his body and arched his back, feeling the strain from lying down for so long.

He shook his mane, walked up to the stone ledge and stared. "You have blessed these lands with everything it needs, haven't you Rahimu?" His heart beat at the realization of his words. He hadn't spoken to the Creator since he stumbled upon these lands. Then he had prayed for relief from his wanderings, and now…

He sighed deeply, contently and for a moment he wished Johari was here, to bask in what he now perceived as morning worship. "No… maybe this only supposed to be for me. Just me and you, huh, Lord?" He chuckled softly and breathed in the crisp air. He bowed his head, moved his paws and closed his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you for saving me. For letting Shabihi raise me… for taking her peacefully." His prayer went on, every word meaningful. He prayed for the King and Queen, for Prince Jibade, Princess Mpenzi and for those he met since he decided to stay.

When it was over tears seeped from his eyes. He sighed and sniffed, feeling better in this one moment than he felt in all the time he'd been here or in the early days of Shabihi's passing. He decided to walk and soon found himself in the grass, the sun's gentle warmth on his back. The grass was soft under his paws, the blades brushing the lower parts of his legs. His walk soon turned into a sprint and nearing a waterhole he stopped in his tracks, head tilted in confusion.

"King Dhoruba," he asked in a quiet voice. From his position he couldn't be sure if the King was aware of anyone else in the area. What Akanni could be sure of was the ruler's pacing, his tail angrily switching. He managed to hear something that instantly caught his attention.

"I blocked all of it! Why? I d- I didn't mean to do it. I… I just snapped!"

_What are you talking about, sire?_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba had no idea that the pride's newest member was watching him. He continued to pace, his anger rising.

_**Come on, Dhoruba! Admit what you did and I'll leave you alone. Maybe Rahimu will forgive your transgressions! Of course, with as many as you have, forgiveness is unlikely.**_

He snarled. _Stop it!_ His eyes grew unfocused as another image flashed in his mind – blood everywhere, the bodies of some lionesses and cubs. As he continued to look, he licked his lips, suddenly feeling the taste of blood in his mouth. It made him shudder, made him sick, but it also brought back a feeling he thought had died. It filled his body, made his heart pound with hard beats.

What he saw next made his jaw drop as he noticed the face of a lion that looked… The same gray eyes, dark brown body, pitch black mane… As quick as a strike of lightning in the sky, as if it struck him right in the chest, it all came flooding back. He shut his eyes, shook his head and felt the claws on all four paws come out. They scratched the grass blades, gripping them, and when he opened his eyes he thought he was back there in the place he thought he had buried. His eyes narrowed and he snarled viciously.

_**Come on now! Admit it! You killed them all, even that cub's mother. It would've been right in front of him if that other lioness hadn't shown up and taken him. Remember what he looks like? The new male in your pride certainly resembles him. He's here right now, watching.**_

Dhoruba growled again, felt the blood in his body course through him while his head pounded. He shut his eyes for a moment, reopened them and saw the lion still standing there and under his paws…

_A lioness!_

He heard echoes in his ears.

"_You will pay for not helping me!"_

"_No, no, please!"_

"_It's too late for begging."_

He heard claws tear through flesh, the last gasps of a struggle to live.

_Rahimu,_ Dhoruba prayed desperately. _I need you!_

_Truth will free you._

The King's eyes widened and a soft snarl emitted from his mouth under the pressuring strain in his head and the echoes of pleading in his ears. _What truth?_ The lion looked down at the lioness viciously. Then the soft, frightened voice of a cub nearby made all three look in its direction. Dhoruba shook his head; mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. The cub, a male… _He looks exactly like – _

_**Admit, sire… you killed all of them!**_

"You're a failure! Your mother produced a weak heir! I should've mated with one of the stronger lionesses. Perhaps then I would have the heir I deserve, but instead I'm stuck with you, a reminder of my own foolishness! You're nothing and never will be. You'll never amount to anything!"

The taste of blood in King Dhoruba's mouth intensified. It was the final breaking point. "All right!" he shouted, raising his head to the skies. His gray eyes flashed. "I killed them, all of them! Come for me now, Rahimu, for you judge the wicked as well as the good! Come on! I deserve it!" He paused and shook his head aggressively. "I put it out of my mind when it was over, but I was haunted every time I looked at my reflection in the water. I didn't want to remember so I buried it." _Deeply, _he thought. "Strike me, Lord! I deserve it! Judgment is yours! I spilled so much innocent blood. I murdered my parents, and an entire pride of lionesses and cubs!"

Finally he stopped, breathing heavily while the weight and emotion of his words fell like large rocks onto his body which caused him to fall to the grass in a heap. He shut his eyes as hard, hot tears filled them and ran like a hard rain down his cheeks, his sides racking with heart choking sobs.

Then, searching the deepest parts of his mind, he began to recall and speak the names of those he slaughtered. Or those he could remember.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Akanni wasn't certain if he could believe what his eyes were seeing. But he could believe what his ears were hearing. It confused and for a slight moment fascinated him. From what he could understand King Dhoruba had come from a very troubled past, one he'd chosen to forget.

As he watched the ruler's strange display it made him wonder if those strange nightmares were memories of his old life. The young lion continued to remain silent, and told himself not to speak or risk alerting the King of his presence. He wasn't spying, simply curious. He had no idea the Western Plains' monarch would be awake at this time of day! But he was here. He couldn't leave now, even if he left the way he'd come – not even making a sound. King Dhoruba would sniff the air, discover his scent. He would be caught and would have to explain why he was awake and why he had stood watching him, listening to him.

If Akanni was honest with himself – and he knew he could be – the way in which the King was behaving stirred some old memories for him. He was a cub, lying next to his mother, the pride near one another, avoiding their ruler who was in a foul mood, pacing, muttering, his tail twitching, eyes darting back and forth looking angry, frustrated, like he was ready to strike at one of them at any given moment if they so much as glanced his way.

As Akanni continued to watch he was able to pick up some of what Dhoruba was saying. It made no sense, like he was talking in riddles. But it was the site of the Western Plain's leader raising his head to the sky above and shouting. Akanni felt himself flinch, remembering a time when the King of his home pride spoke in an angry voice. He shook his head and battled with the idea of whether to leave or stay, until Dhoruba's next words compelled him to do the latter. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open a little. Fear gripped him. Dhoruba wanted judgment from Rahimu.

Before the question of, 'What sin?' could enter his mind, he heard, clear as the birds of the lands chirping, "I murdered my parents… an entire pride of lionesses and cubs!"

At that, the gold tanned lion's red hazel eyes widened in sheer horror. In that moment he did want to flee, to pretend he had never heard, to return to his chambers and sleep beside Johari once more. But he still wanted to stay; wanted to learn more, even if he was spying now to do it. _You've killed, sire?_ His eyes were still on Dhoruba as the older lion fell on his stomach, almost dejectedly, his form shaking.

Shock, dismay, sadness and every other emotion tugged Akanni's heart. He strained to hear, but he could just make sense of whatever the distraught ruler was saying next. _They sound like names, but whose?_ His whiskers twitched, his tail flickered then his eyes narrowed. They were names he recognized, some lionesses, some cubs, but how would – Then, to the younger male's astonishment the next name that came was that of Akanni's own mother.

Without warning, a growl rose from deep within his throat and it took every ounce of his strength to compose himself. No. He needed more than that. _Rahimu… this can't be true. He's not the one!_ His brow furrowed. "Sire… how do you know her name?" he asked in a quiet voice that shook as each word came out. A painful beat of his heart nearly caused him to choke. He shook his head. "It… It can't be. Lord, no, please!" But the name of his mother… he'd heard spoken on the lionesses' lips, including Shabihi's, resonated and twirled in his mind. He felt his heart sink and shut his eyes, feeling another growl in his throat. Dhoruba knew. By Rahimu, the Western Plains' King knew!

Then he opened his eyes again to see the older lion staring straight at him. Their eyes bore into each other's and the memories of a long ago massacre flooded back for both. _No, this can't be happening! I finally have a place to call home, a group of lions and lionesses I can call friends. Rahimu, don't let this ruin everything!_

As much as he tried to reason with himself the color of the King's eyes shook him to the core. They were the same eyes that haunted his dreams as a cub, eyes he often swore, as an adult, he would remove with his claws, if given or blessed with the opportunity. How many times had he told himself it would never happen? That he would never see the one who murdered his mother, his friends? Yet it wasn't just the eyes, it was the look, the color of his body, his mane… How many lions had such colors? They were the eyes Prince Jibade inherited, that and the black mane were all the similarities the Western Plains' current and future ruler shared. The face was the same as the one from his nightmares, only older.

Nearly hesitating, reluctant, he raised a foreleg and set it down. As much as he wanted to deny it, he just couldn't. His mother's name and an image of her he thought he'd forgotten flashed in his mind. _You know her name, sire,_ he thought, feeling as though his heart was going to come out of his chest. _If you do, then –_ His anger rose and another image, this one of the day his mother had been slaughtered, returned. It was all he could see, her lying on the ground and the Prince look down at her then at him for a brief moment. The Prince's stormy gray eyes and face were the same as King Dhoruba. _The looks, knowing Mother's name… It all fits!_ His own eyes snapped and the claws on his forepaws slowly unsheathed.

"Akanni," the King asked, his voice shaken and surprised. _How long have you been there and how much did you hear?_ "What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same, sire," the young lion replied, his voice cold, clipped. He would have to approach this matter carefully though his whole inner being was crying out to attack.

Dhoruba lifted a paw up then put it down. He barely knew this lion.

_**Oh you know him alright. You just put it out of your memory all this time, but it's been there trying to burst forth!**_

He growled softly. "I was unable to sleep, and you?"

"The same is true for me, sire." He took a step up, slow, deliberate. "What woke you?"

Could he tell him? Akanni was still a stranger. He'd never spent any time with him since he arrived in the Western Plains. At the young male's question, Dhoruba looked to the side, saying, "It was a nightmare." He wasn't sure what bothered him more. The fact that he blurted out his buried crime to the sky, or that Akanni had probably heard it.

"I see. Was it random or reoccurring?"

The redmaned lion was either very curious or hiding the fact that he'd heard. "With all due respect Akanni, I think you've –"

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Stormy gray eyes met red hazel. "Should I?"

"Take a good, long look."

Unbidden, the image of the male cub from his nightmares flashed in his mind. He compared it to the lion standing in front of him. He closed his eyes, putting both faces side by side. The color of their eyes, the head tuft color was the same as Akanni's mane. Their pelt color… _Lord!_

"I'm surprised you never asked me where I came from, who my parents were, if I was born a rogue."

"Akanni…"

"To fill you in, I had a mother. But she died, killed by the Prince of my homeland." He looked down at his claws, soon continuing. "In fact, the entire pride was slaughtered, so were the cubs, even the Prince's parents." He paused, a lump in his throat. "I was about to watch my mother die when one of the lionesses snatched me up in her jaws. We survived, thank Rahimu, and she raised me as her own. I called her mom as a cub, then by her name as I grew up." A small, pained but fond smile crossed his face. "She'd have loved it here." Then the smile left, and a cold hardness filled his eyes as he walked up to the King, staring straight into his eyes while hoping the look in his own would force the ruler to step back. "It took me coming out here and watching you, really looking at you. You may not remember me, but I remember you, Prince Dhoruba."

The older lion's eyes widened a little. "Akanni, I –" He paused as another image of the cub and the lion in front of him entered his mind, the calls of the cub's mother as she died. The taste of blood filled the inside of his mouth. It made him shake and tremble. _You're the cub…_ Nervously, he swallowed. "I was a different lion then," he heard himself say.

"So you _**do**_ remember!"

"I'm… beginning to. I blocked it out, forgot it, but the nightmares…"

"Are reminding you, all the while you thought you could escape the past. Guess not." The young lion paused for a moment, his heart pounding. His fore claws were still out, and even though this King said he could stay it didn't change what they both knew. He walked up to the King with deliberate steps. "You killed my mother, and you would have killed me if Shabihi hadn't saved me. You probably would have killed her too, am I right? We all had to pay."

"It's complicated," Dhoruba whispered in a strained voice.

"You have no idea what I endured. You killed an entire pride because of what your father did. I was a cub, yes, but I wasn't stupid."

"Akanni –"

"Admit it to me, sire, here and now. You killed the lions and lionesses of the pride we were born in."

The dark brown lion shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "I was angry with my father. I lost control and I –" He was unable to finish as the younger lion let out a loud, fierce roar and slammed into him. He fell on his back, his head landing with a thud in the grass. Staring into what appeared to be angry red hazel eyes, he was reminded of how his own feelings so long ago.

Akanni looked down at him with bared teeth, his claws only inches from the King's throat. He pressed his full weight down as hard as he could to prevent Dhoruba from getting up. "Admit it, Your Highness!" he snarled. "You murdered your parents, you killed the lionesses, their cubs, and you killed my mother!" Blood ran hot through his body and for a moment all he could see was the agony he'd kept inside for several years. "No matter how badly your father treated you –"

Dhoruba gave a snarl of his own. "You have no idea!"

"It doesn't excuse the slaughter of innocents!"

"So you want revenge."

At that, the redmaned lion laughed ruefully. "Oh, I thought and dreamed about it for years. But I never imagined I would actually meet you after so long." For a brief moment he was surprised that the King didn't flip him. His hind legs were free. Did he not want to?

"Or I you, yet here we are," the ruler grunted. "Let me up and we can figure this out."

It was tempting, but could they talk? How many of his dreams were about finding this lion and killing him? Could Akanni resolve this peacefully? His adopted mother's words rang in his mind but they were overshadowed by mental words of vengeance for his blood mother, his friends, their mothers and Shabihi's sister. He growled and wanted more than anything to tear out the King's throat. Was his blood mother killed the same way?

_It won't bring you back, but he has to pay!_

_No matter the sin of his past, he let you stay. Hear what he has to say._

The young male closed his eyes, but before he could make up his mind something slammed into his side, knocking him away from the King. He rolled on the ground and found himself directly on his back, claws close to his throat. He looked up at his assailant, expecting it to be Dhoruba. Instead he stared into the light teal colored bloodshot eyes of a lion who hated that him, Johari's brother.

"I _knew_ you couldn't be trusted!"

"Let him up, Hadhari," said the King as he rose to his paws. "He has a reason."

"And what might that be, sire?"

The next voice to speak wasn't Dhoruba's. "First, let Akanni up, then I'm sure my father will explain."

Both the young guard and the King turned their heads to see Prince Jibade, his sister and their mother coming toward them. But they weren't alone. Behind them were Hadhari's parents and sisters. Everyone had curious looks on their faces, and Hadhari could feel his father's angry eyes on him as he got off Akanni.

Dhoruba was more surprised and wanted to ask what they were doing here. But he had no words. _Rahimu does this mean…_ His heart pounded again. His family, two of his closest friends and their daughters were here. Quickly, he glanced to Hadhari and Akanni, seeing caution on the young guard's face as he eyed the red maned lion with renewed suspicion. His ears flickered. There was no choice. He had to tell all of them.

_Truth will set you free, Dhoruba. You need to do this._

He swallowed a large lump in his throat. _Be with me, Rahimu._ _Give me strength._ "It's good you came and that you're all here," Dhoruba began, trying to make eye contact with his mate and failing. He pawed the grass. "There's… something I need to tell you. It's about me."


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

They all gathered near so they could hear what he had to say. Bukua and his mate lay down while their daughters settled beside the Prince and the redmaned newcomer. Their son scowled in his sisters' direction, not even feeling the narrowed eyes of the Princess on him.

Queen Kesha moved up to her mate, gently nudging him. He smiled weakly at her gesture and when everyone was settled he looked at the grass, his paws, and prayed for strength. Rahimu knew he would need it. He glanced at them, his body shaking a little and allowed his eyes to meet his son's.

"Jibade, not too long ago I told you a little about my parents and the pride I grew up in…" Aggressively, he shook his head. "What I told you was only a half truth, and I'm sorry."

As expected, the Western Plains Prince looked confused. "I don't understand, Father. What do you mean?"

Dhoruba let out a heavy sighed that went all through him. Akanni didn't speak and for that, the King was grateful. Was he afraid of attacking him again? Or was it because of Johari's presence that he was calm for the time being? _Never mind. I need to get this done._

He started to speak, hesitantly at first, telling them of his parents and life – as much as he could remember – in his old pride. He told them of his father's cruelty, how it was forbidden, even for the shaman in their presence, to praise Rahimu and how the kingdom was ruled with a hard paw.

"My father would beat me when I didn't do what he wanted correctly or perfectly. Mother tried to protect me, even endured a beating herself when I was younger." Dhoruba trembled slightly at a thought well deserved to flow through his mind. _I gave her the same treatment in the end!_ "But I grew up, managed to grow strong and told myself that I wouldn't be like my father. I saw the fear on the lionesses faces, in the eyes of their cubs whenever he or I walked by. They were afraid of me too, for what he was attempting to turn me into, and they had every right to be."

_**Yes, they did, and what you did to them gave them just cause!**_

At the sound of the dark voice in his spirit, the King's his heart fell and he stifled a growl that, thankfully, no one heard, not even Kesha who was closer to him.

"Don't stop now, sire. Tell _them_!" Akanni burst out with barely suppressed rage. The touch of Johari's paw on his own made him startle but he couldn't look into her eyes. Why was she sitting beside him? Didn't she see what he had done to her King?

"Shut your mouth, rogue!" her brother countered, his eyes flashing.

"Hadhari," said Bukua in a firm voice. "_You_ had best be quiet and let the King gather his thoughts."

The younger lion replied with a soft huff and rolled his eyes, annoyed.

Dhoruba continued, averting his gaze. "Then came the day when I couldn't take it anymore. My father and I were patrolling as a storm was getting ready to fall. He told me not to screw up and went on ahead. Anger filled me. I had been telling myself for a long time that I wouldn't be like him. I wanted to do everything in my strength to make sure it never happened…"

He went on to tell them of the flashbacks of past abuse he remembered that day, and for one brief moment he could see and feel himself back there again. The cold air on his body, his eyes narrow, the soft words of hurt and pain he'd uttered about how his father saw him as weakling. How his father tried constantly to take away his goodness and innocence. The memory of his decision, the flashback of one of his first beatings played and the anger he'd felt then slowly came up to the surface now. He stopped, trembled, shook and shuddered. Only the gentle purr of his mate prevented him from lashing out, but for the same reason Akanni couldn't look at Johari he couldn't look at Kesha. He was afraid of what he would see there. If she was confused by what he was saying she had yet to vocalize it. He knew she would wait with a patience he never thought existed. Did she know how difficult this was for him?

With a hard swallow he managed to carry on, his words slow and deliberate, telling them how he had compared his father's behavior to the storm and how he didn't want to be that way.

"I came to a decision that day," he said, then closed his eyes, preparing himself. "I was going to kill my father." Before anyone could speak he went on to explain how he found his father and how he believed he had done right, that he was doing it for the pride, the kingdom and himself. "The lands had suffered enough," Dhoruba said, sounding weary. "I decided it would end with my father and start anew with me. When I found him I…"

Dhoruba told them about the confrontation. Sometimes he faltered as an image of that day entered his mind but he pushed through, still hoping he had everyone's attention. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to Rahimu when Akanni remained quiet. No one spoke. He didn't hear anyone get up and leave. His eyes darted all around, not making contact with anyone.

"I killed my father that day, and when I did… I felt free. I was." Without warning he flinched, expecting Kesha to let out a gasp, say he was a monster and leave. But she did none of these things though he did feel her tense beside him. Of course she would. He had done something most animals wouldn't even consider. He had murdered his father and king.

Dhoruba bowed his head, his heart hammering.

_Keep going, Dhoruba. I am with you._

_Are you with my mate, my children, my friends and their children? Are you with Akanni?_

Rahimu spoke to his spirit, and he felt calm and peaceful. He carried on; telling them that the taste of his father's blood caused him to snap. "I-I'm not sure how but I wanted more. Then I thought of my mother and how she had done nothing to help me." He wanted to get up and walk away from them, knowing that if he told them the entire story one of them or all of them would call the pride so they could hear this.

He shut his eyes and pressed ahead, despite the inner pain. His heart squeezed with each word he spoke. He thought he was going to pass out. Nausea swept over him and more than once his vision spun.

_Rahimu!_

Tears filled his eyes but he made no move to wipe them with a paw. He choked back several sobs still unable and unwilling to meet anyone's eyes. Part of him wanted to know, part of him didn't. If they were angry and filled with hatred towards him he wouldn't hold it against them. His son and daughter were no doubt gravely disappointed, his son especially, maybe more so. He wondered if Bukua was regretting ever bringing him to the caves. And Amri… if his late father-in-law were alive he'd probably kill him in righteous anger.

"The bloodlust was so strong I couldn't stop. I killed all of them: lioness and cub alike. The blood in me told me they had to pay, and that by doing so I was sparing them from enduring what I would've put them through if I had become king."

Then, a voice filled with no emotion took up where he left off. "You killed my mother."

All eyes went to the source of the voice.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Akanni looked at his claws as he ran them through the grass. He could feel Hadhari's eyes on him. If no one was around, if he didn't feel something for the lioness beside him then he and the young guardian would settle the latter's strong animosity. His eyes burned, his heart beat was strong, and everything in him wanted to express his rage, pain, anger and heartbreak over the fact that he grew up without the mother who gave him life, that the friends he'd hoped to grow up with had been slaughtered along with their mothers. That his entire life had been ripped from him because the sins of the father had been passed to the son, who committed his own great sin through some sense that he was sparing everyone.

"I saw the dead bodies of my friends, their mothers, and I saw you pin my mother, preparing to kill her." He breathed heavily as he slowly stood to his paws. "If it hadn't been for Shabihi – remember her, your highness?" he seethed. When the king didn't speak, Akanni ruefully laughed. "Of course you don't. But I do! She saved my life, raised me as her own! My mother told her to take me and run. Remember what you said? No doubt your muzzle was stained with my mother's blood, however, I remember well."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "You said we could run, but you would find us." He chuckled, also ruefully. "You never did. Shabihi made sure of that. She protected me. She loved me, taught me everything to survive. After what you did we had no home. We were on our own, no thanks to you."

The last four words he spat, which earned him a snarl from Johari's brother. He didn't care. He found himself not wanting to hear the rest. He understood it now. No one here, not even the Queen's late parents knew of 'King' Dhoruba's past. The lion, who was speaking, to Akanni, wasn't a king. He was a murderer and had, in his opinion, no business being the leader of a realm like this. If anything, he deserved to die for his sins. He deserved to suffer, to have everything he held dear taken from him. He needed to live wondering if he was going to see the next day or not. He needed to know what it meant to live in fear. Had he ever, even once when he too left the lands caked in the blood of innocent lionesses, cubs, and ordinary animals?

Akanni wanted to give in to the rage, knowing full well that he was outnumbered. Friend or not, Jibade would keep him away from his father. Bukua would protect his king. Hadhari would gladly sink his claws and teeth into him, then go to Johari, saying he was right all along, how stupid she was for liking a lion like him. The thought of the latter made Akanni shut his eyes in regret for his thinking.

All the ideas and daydreams he'd had for years about vengeance were coming back, now mixing in with the thoughts Hadhari had of him, and his growing affection for Johari. Conflict warred in his mind and soul. Without warning, without speaking, he turned and left. He had no idea where he wanted to go, but he had to get away from them, even Johari. He wasn't about to let his thoughts affect her, if they were.

As he walked, tears streamed down his face. For his long dead friends, mother, for Shabihi, for himself, for the guardians whose faith and trust in their king had been shaken, for Prince Jibade and his sister would probably never look at their father the same way again, for the Queen who now knew that her mate had shed innocent blood without thought to the consequences, and for Johari whose opinion of him was about to change because she had seen this side of him. If she had any affection towards him Akanni believed it was now gone.

_Just like everything else in my life. Rahimu… why am I here?_

_So you could heal and move forward._

The lion scoffed aloud. "Heal me," he asked quietly. "How can I heal or move on when the lion who turned my life upside down is explaining to his family and friends what he did? I can't do this."

_You can, Akanni. Trust me._

He closed his eyes, telling himself and the voice in his spirit that he needed more time. _I need to sort this out within myself._

A run and time with the Lord would help him think straight.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

For a time, no one spoke. Dhoruba knew that they were churning the words in their heads, rolling them around in their hearts. He couldn't blame them. He was too. Talking about it he couldn't help but feel disgusted at his actions. It was like he was talking about a whole different person. He was guilty, he knew. But his sin wasn't something he'd done for the sake of it. He was fueled from different directions – his father, the taste of the blood in his mouth… Justifying it would do no good and he wasn't about to.

"What happened after?"

All heads turned. To Dhoruba's amaze it was Bukua who asked that. He swallowed, only slightly surprised that the guardian who found him several years before had the same look on his face: one of a listener, someone who wanted to know the whole story. Dhoruba half expected the older guardian to claw his eyes out or something of that nature. But this was Bukua, a lion of a gentle nature, one who didn't anger so quickly or easily unless it was absolutely needed. He had never asked Dhoruba of his past. He minded his own business all this time. He did what he was told, always did what needed to be done without being told. Now that he was hearing all of this, all the words that would make any lion sick to their stomach, make them feel all kinds of emotion, he wanted to know the full story.

"I never went looking for Akanni and Shabihi," he started. "After I… After I had satisfied my blood lust I left, or ran, would be the more appropriate word. I wandered; it was the only thing I could do. I hunted when I needed to. I stayed away from the borders of kingdoms I passed so as not to be tempted. I even avoided joining rogue groups. I became a loner and didn't mind it. I felt I needed it." His mouth dried and he shook his head. "Sometimes I haunted by those I killed and when I was I forced myself to stay awake."

He chuckled without mirth. "Once I stayed awake for three days, and began having daydreams. Needless to say I slept after that and endured. Whenever I looked at my reflection in the water I saw a stranger, a lion with a muzzle stained in blood, wild eyes. I looked behind me to see if I left a trail of blood. Not sure how I long I wandered before…" His ears flickered and bent backward. "Before you found me, Bukua, not that it matters. I'm not even sure if I prayed to collapse on the borders of a kingdom that was different from the one I was born in." Carefully, he met the eyes of Kesha, his son and daughter, and those of the guardians. Emotion filled him, gratitude sprang upward. "But since you found me, Bukua, not a day has gone by when I haven't thanked Rahimu. He gave me far more than I deserve. He had mercy on me, a sinner. You could've left me to die, you know that, Bukua."

The guardian looked at his paws, then at Dhoruba. "You're right and if I had been any other kind of guard I probably would have. I'd cared less. However, I was raised with values that spoke of life, to serve a cause higher than myself. I didn't know you, but what I did know was that a lion had passed out, I found him, and decided to help him. For all I knew you hadn't eaten in days and needed food, water and shelter. So I did what the guardian code of Western Plains requested. As you know, sire, they were given by Rahimu Himself. I followed the code that day, and every day since I've had no regrets."

Bukua slowly rose and stretched his aching limbs. He shook his mane and faced Dhoruba, staring him hard in the eyes. "If you were expecting this to change my perspective of you, you're wrong. What you did was in the past and I don't condone it. You were in a losing situation. If you followed your father, the cycle of abuse would have continued. You had to do something; you didn't want to be the way he was."

He pawed the grass. "The taste of blood can ignite a strong feeling in us. We feel a want to control. When we sink our teeth into our prey we hold their lives in our jaws. What separates those in control of that feeling and those who are not are the teachings given to us by our parents. Your father taught you nothing but dominance and how to use it to _your_ advantage, not for the benefits of others. In killing the members of your old pride you wanted them to feel the same helplessness that you felt as a cub, adolescent and young adult. You wanted them to feel the same fear. Again, I don't condone it, especially killing the cubs. Everything you did after you killed your parents was blood lust. It took control."

He took a few steps up. "When you came here, you were lost, searching for something. I don't believe me finding you passed out on the borders was an accident. I think Rahimu heard the cry of your heart and soul. He led you here and led me to you so you could have a new start, and have a father figure better than your real one. Rahimu wanted you to know Him and love Him."

He looked at Kesha and continued. "To be the mate your father wasn't to his own." He turned his head around to the Prince and Princess. "To be the father yours wasn't, and to be the King you were meant to be." He paused. Then, facing the ruler again, "It took a lot of strength inside and out to tell us all this. Dhoruba… I don't see you any different. You're still my King and my friend. If I had to make the choice of leaving you to die or finding you and taking you back to the caves, I'd bring you to the caves. No doubt, no hesitation, no question." He hoped his son was listening closely with an open heart.

Dhoruba's whiskers twitched and a tear slid down his left furred cheek. He sniffed, rose and walked up to the lion that saved his life and head bumped him. "Thank you, my friend."

They returned to their spots beside their mates. Ajia nuzzled her husband in an understanding way that told him she too would continue to serve Dhoruba as faithfully as she served Kesha's father. Her heart had resonated with Bukua's words because they'd come from his loving heart, and, in humble silence she agreed with everything he said.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

During his father and Bukua's exchange, Jibade exchanged a look with his sister, but neither could make out the others expression. The Prince was glad to have Nasila so close. Her presence was helping the anger and disappointment he felt at his father's words. What could he say? His father did lie to him, but not everything he said was a total lie. He left his homeland to avoid being like his cruel father. But why leave the fate of the pride – a fate that he caused – out?

Jibade ran his tongue over his mouth, breathed slowly, deeply, and spoke. "Father…" All eyes turned to him, Dhoruba's included.

The King forced himself to stare, knowing that his son would need a full answer. If he avoided eye contact, it would make him look guiltier.

_**But you are, aren't you, Dhoruba? You are guilty, and chances are your wanna-be righteous son will lay your sins out before you.**_

The older lion refused to listen to the voice, hoping and praying it had no merit. He hoped his son wasn't that kind of lion. How could he be? As far as Dhoruba knew, his son had no evil in him, no judgment to give. He had double the love of Rahimu and the thirst to follow Him no matter any circumstance because of his mother and the teachings left behind by his late maternal grandfather. But this was different. Jibade had just learned that his father committed a great crime and lied about it!

"Yes, Jibade," he near choked.

"With everything you've said… it wouldn't be connected to your nightmares, would it?" The young lion waited. After a few moments, when no one spoke, not even Dhoruba, Jibade shook his head knowingly. "They're connected, aren't they?"

"Yes," his father replied. "But I didn't realize it until this morning."

"So, the nightmares were reminding you," Mpenzi stated.

Dhoruba looked at his daughter, amazed that she wasn't horrified by all he had said. Of course, she was probably hiding it, maybe waiting until the guardians left so they could all talk as a family. The King sighed softly. Their reactions were not what he was expecting. He thought it would be worse, that they would call him out, cast him out and renounce him – Jibade and Mpenzi as their father and Kesha as her mate. He expected them to disown him and strip him of his title as King and put Jibade in his place. He half wanted them to ask Rahimu to judge him for his sins as he so rightly deserved. But they did none of these things. During Bukua's speech he expected the older guardian to say that he wished he had never found Dhoruba.

"Yes, they were. See, after I left, I wandered, had nightmares, daydreams. Many times, thinking that I was being followed, I just wanted to forget what I did. Even before that once the blood lust was gone I was horrified by what I had done, disgusted. There were a few times I threw up and cried out to Rahimu to kill me. I wished for death, thought I had earned his wrath and judgment. Once I was out of the lands I even tried to drown myself in the deepest waterholes I found and drank from. Looking at my reflection sickened me. Sometimes I didn't even recognize myself. I began questioning my own identity and before I knew it I had buried my crimes so far into my mind it was as if they didn't exist."

"You blocked them," Ajia said quietly, but loud enough for her emotionally stricken King to hear.

"Correct," he replied. "I suffered great trauma as a cub. My father got what he wanted. He had turned me into a killer, and kill I did, just not in the way he wanted or expected or planned. After all these years I'm astounded that I can still hunt without getting those images in my head." He felt Kesha put a paw on his. He wanted to flinch. How could she touch him, let alone be near him? They would have a lot to talk about later.

"Dad," said Mpenzi. The King and Princess's eyes met and Mpenzi rose from her spot, walked up to her father and laid her head on his mane. "You've confessed a sin from your past to us, and Bukua is right. You were in a losing situation. Sometimes when I hunt I love the taste of my prey's blood in my mouth, but you had more go through your mind than just your father's blood. Memories of being tormented in private and public…" Tears fell down her cheeks onto her father's mane. "I can't imagine that. None of us can. All of that and the taste of another's blood would be enough to make anyone snap." She sobbed a little. "You've been here for a long time. You've been through a lot. Rahimu could have judged you, but He didn't. Instead, He gave you a second chance and showed you mercy. He led you here so you could be taught by Grandpa to live, love, rule, and raise cubs rightly." She sniffed. "I'd say you have succeeded. You're not the lion who committed genocide. You've more than made up for it. No matter your past you're still my father, and it is by Rahimu's grace when I say that I love you." Mpenzi licked her father's cheek and laid her head on his mane again. "I _love_ you, Dad!"

In surprise and shock, Dhoruba laid a paw on his daughter's back and cried softly. "I love you too, my sweet Princess! Thank you!"

When she pulled away, Jibade spoke up next while getting to his paws. "Father, I agree with Mpenzi. You're not the lion who did those things. I admit, openly, that I am shocked that you would do such a thing, and while I would never want to experience such brutality in my life… it's not my place to condemn you nor would I. You've never given me or any of us cause to be afraid of you. You've always been a kind, loving, always-there-when-we-need you kind of father, and everything you have done for me and Mpenzi you learned from Grandpa. He was your second chance to be a better lion. You used everything he taught you. That day when you and I talked I know now that you didn't completely lie to me. You just blocked a very traumatic event in your life, and I really don't blame you for doing so." Tears filled the Prince's eyes and he made no move to wipe them away. He walked up to his sister and father and gently nuzzled Mpenzi before continuing. "I made a promise to you after that talk and I stand by it. You don't have to worry about your past being revisited in me or Mpenzi. That old you is gone, but I think that it's okay to remember it. Just to make sure such a thing never happens again, and you have done that. You raised Mpenzi and I well. You've treated us well, loved us well and have never hurt us."

"Jibade, I…"

"Father, please, let me finish," his son said in a gentle way that reminded him of Amri. "When my time comes I will rule the Western Plains the way you and Mother have, and I will keep Rahimu's principles. I will honor him as a King as I have and will continue to honor him as a Prince. You sinned when you were younger, but as Mpenzi said you have confessed it to us." Like his sister, Jibade laid his head on his father's other shoulder. "You're my father and you will always be." The tears fell down his face, wetting Dhoruba's mane. "I am humbly proud to be your heir and I love you by Rahimu's grace."

Jibade stepped back, and with Mpenzi at his side they bowed their heads.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When the Prince and Princess finished, silence filled the air. No one spoke. No one really wanted to because they really had no idea what to say. Bukua had said all he needed to, and Dhoruba sensed that Ajia agreed with her husband. Their children, he wasn't so sure about, but he believed they would talk with his. He wondered, for a moment, about Akanni. The redmaned lion had left in such anger and disarray. If Dhoruba was honest with himself, he was worried about Akanni. The young male – that is young in his eyes, older than his son and daughter and Bukua's daughters and sons by at least several seasons – had every right to be angry. Dhoruba wanted to approach the subject with him again, but the anger on both their parts would surely rise to the surface again. _Maybe there's no way for us to find common ground,_ he thought. _I shattered and ruined his life. He has every reason in the world to hate me._ _Rahimu, please give him peace._

The only one who hadn't said anything was Kesha, and that, more than anything, worried Dhoruba. She was completely silent, hadn't said a word or even moved. If there was a confrontation to be had with her it was better to do it now than later.

He met eyes with his children and friends. "Thank you all for listening, and I deeply appreciate what you've said. A part of me wishes I hadn't told you any of this, but I am relieved that I have."

"Thank you, Dhoruba," said Ajia, "for trusting us with this." She bowed her head toward him with a smile.

He returned it.

"If you want this to stay between all of us," Bukua added, "we will respect that. The pride doesn't have to know."

"I'd appreciate that," said the King and when the two older guardians started to rise, he said, "Take the day off. You both do so much as it is."

Ajia and Bukua looked at each other briefly, and bowed their heads. "Thank you, Dhoruba. We'll see you at the caves," Bukua said. Looking at his children, and giving a hard think-about-all-that-you-heard-today look to Hadhari, the two left the area.

"Do you still trust him?" Bukua asked his mate quietly.

The lioness sighed softly and put her head against his. "It's not our place to judge. He was born and raised in a kingdom that would have destroyed his spirit. Like you, I don't condone his actions, but as our respective parents taught us, once we come to Rahimu and give our lives over to Him, He no longer remembers the sins of our past. The same is true for Dhoruba. I believe not remembering for so long was a defense thing. I think that if he remembered his father's cruelty toward him he would remember the rest of it. His coming here was no accident. Rahimu wanted it this way. Maybe now Dhoruba can find peace within himself."

Ajia's wisdom and knowledge never ceased to amaze or surprise him. It didn't take long for Bukua to digest her words and agree with a nod of his head. "You're right, my love and I too hope he can find inner peace."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

As soon as their parents were gone, Nasila, after bowing her head with a warm smile in Dhoruba's direction, left with Jibade. She knew he would want to talk. Hadhari gave a short bow of his own and left very quickly. _Going off to sulk,_ Nasila thought. Then she shuddered a little, grateful that she couldn't read her stubborn brother's stubborn mind. She'd have hated to know what thoughts were roaming through his head now they had all heard the King's past.

Mpenzi went off in another direction. _She might pray or find a place in the shade to nap. I could use a nap myself._ But she dismissed the idea. Her time with Jibade was important, especially now. Johari, she noticed, had sniffed the air and broke into a run. She smiled at that. _Going to find Akanni… Good. Maybe she can talk to him._ She felt sorry for the older lion. He had lost everything: his home, his friends, two mothers who seemed to love him dearly – one enough to die for him, literally, and the other enough to raise him as hers and watch him grow up. Nasila hoped that the redmaned lion's fury was cool when Johari talked to him. She silently prayed about it.

"Are you alright?" Jibade asked, noting how quiet she'd been, not that he could blame her. Even his mind was so full of the morning's events. Was it still morning? He shook his mane. It didn't matter.

"I'm fine," Nasila replied. "Still shocked, but I'm alright. What about you?"

"He's still my father," the Prince replied firmly. Then he looked at her. "I meant what I said. You know that, right?"

"Yes. You have a great love for him, Jibade. Something, I think, most sons would take for granted."

"I'm not like most sons," he said gently, knowing that she was in part, referring to him, but more to Hadhari who deserved it. Jibade wanted to hit the young guard with his claws out for speaking the way he did to Akanni. He knew the lion was only speaking out of anger he had every right to feel. But the lion Akanni knew and the lion that loved and raised the Prince and his sister were two different lions – one without Rahimu in his life, the other with Rahimu. It was so hard to see the two as one.

"I won't judge him," Jibade continued. "I won't condemn him. But the only thing I can and will do is love him and praise Rahimu that _this_ lion is my father!"

There was a determination in his eyes that stunned Nasila and for a moment she stepped back, looking at him in a new light. She loved him more than ever now. If he had judged his father and condemned him for a crime he committed long before he and his sister were born… _Unthinkable,_ the lioness thought.

"Yes, he is your father. I couldn't imagine being raised by a lion like your father's father."

"Nor could I, and I don't think Mpenzi and Johari could either." Jibade's ears flickered, his whiskers twitched and he faced Nasila, his eyes probing hers. "Is my father still your leader?" He hated to ask, but he had to know for certain.

The lioness nodded firmly. "He is."

It was everything the Prince needed to hear. He nuzzled her tenderly, lovingly, thankful to her. They continued walking, going in no direction, with no purpose for the rest of the day in their minds. They just wanted to spend some time alone together. He might even hunt for him and they would pray and thank Rahimu for their lives and for delivering King Dhoruba from the paws of a wicked King and bringing him to the lands of another who loved Rahimu with everything he had and therefore changing Jibade's father for the better.

As they walked, a slightly strange saying, one he had never heard before, went through Jibade's head, striking his heart.

_What is intended for evil, I can make for good._

Jibade walked closer to Nasila and his spirit soared with joy at the Lord's words.

_Rahimu, you are good and merciful._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Come to check on me?"

Akanni shouldn't have been surprised that she found him, but he was. He half expected her not to find him. He shook his head. He wasn't prepared to talk to her, or anyone for that matter. Why would she waste the rest of her already shocked day looking for him with the idea of talking to him or whatever it was she was here to do instead of spending time with her parents, her sister, or attempting to tell her brother off for his earlier remark toward him?

Before Johari could give an answer, he said, "After what you just heard, discovering that your king murdered his pride and everyone I ever cared about except one, you come here."

The lioness sat a little ways from him, eyes straight ahead. "Yes."

The single answer made the fur on his back and neck bristle. "Why?" he asked with a low growl.

"You should have stayed and heard the rest."

"I know the rest!" Akanni snapped. "He left, Shabihi took me and we left. He found this… paradise while Shabihi and I struggled to survive. Then she died, I wandered and ended up here, not knowing the ruler who let me stay and the lion who murdered my mother were the same lion." He snarled harshly, his red eyes afire, with bared teeth.

Johari waited a moment, weighed her next words and let out a slow, soft sigh. "I'm shocked by what he did, Akanni."

"You should be."

"But what he did was long before me, my siblings, and the Prince and Princess were even born. It doesn't directly affect us." She took a chance and glanced at him. When he didn't speak she sent a silent prayer of thanks. "But it does affect you and you're letting it."

"I lost my blood mother to him, Johari. How can I let go of that?" _I'm not even sure I want to,_ he thought as his eyes closed in inner agony.

Johari's ears flickered and she pawed the grass in front of her idly, swallowing a lump in her throat. She knew she didn't have an answer to give him. Again, he was letting his anger do the talking for him and it pained her. She knew he had every reason to feel anger, resentment, and many assortments of painful emotions. _How long will it be before he stops?_ Then remembering what Jibade and Mpenzi said of their father, she decided to use that.

"Akanni," she said, speaking his name so quietly that he strained to hear her. "The lion who did those terrible things and the King who let you stay _are_ the same lion in body, but they're not the same in attitude or action." Slowly, she turned her head to face him, hoping he would turn and look at her.

The older lion sucked in a lungful of air and let it out briskly. While she was talking his eyes were still closed, but once she stopped he opened them again and faced her. Looking at her and hearing what she had said hurt partly because she was right and partly because he wanted to admit it, which made him feel sick. He turned his face away, but her words echoed in his ears, even as he tried to shut them out. He knew there was more that she wanted to say so he let her.

"The lion you knew as a cub," she continued, "was raised by a tyrant."

For a moment, Akanni looked down, unaware that a soft breeze was stirring his mane. "Dhoruba's father _was_ a tyrant, Johari."

The claws on his front paws appeared and he ran them along the blades of grass. In that moment he remembered what Dhoruba's father looked like. As a cub the much older lion frightened him with his large dark brown colored body and black colored mane. But what had terrified him the most were that King's stormy purple eyes. _If looks could kill, he'd have killed everyone instead of Dhoruba._

The very thought sent a chill and a jerk through his body, while it also made him thankful that Dhoruba inherited his mother's light gray eyes. Akanni had only been around the Queen of his old pride once, but it was enough for him to know that she tried to be a good mother. _Tried and failed._

He licked his mouth, wanting to tell Johari that she had no business probing him like this with these sayings and questions. He shifted in discomfort. She barely knew him and had no right to pry into his personal life, however small and painful it was. The day his real mother died, everything had changed for him and changed again when Shabihi died. A day ago, this morning even, he had been praising Rahimu for leading him to a place he could finally call home and into a pride he could call community and settling him in among lions and lionesses albeit younger than he but that he could call family.

Now he wasn't so sure. Had Rahimu made a mistake? Had he been misled or had he, in his own delusion and lack of hunger and water to drink, fallen asleep and was in the midst of a nightmare that he was sure to wake up from at any given moment?

His heart, instincts and mind told him no. Everything he had seen and heard since he saw King Dhoruba pacing and muttering out his past to himself was real. This, and Johari being with him was all real and he had to face it just like he faced the possibility of Shabihi one day leaving him, which she eventually did. He missed her deeply, especially now. She'd have killed Dhoruba when she learned the truth.

Emotion filled his throat and he wanted to weep. She had been nearly everything to him – comforter, caretaker, teacher, friend, and ultimately a mother.

He bowed his head. The emotion increased as did the pain in his heart. How could he come to terms with all of this? How could he say that Johari _might_ be right? She didn't know Dhoruba, but he did! To Akanni, King Dhoruba was a murderer, yet to the lioness beside him and those she knew, King Dhoruba may have been a killer at one time, but no longer.

_A changed lion…_ That's what she was saying, just not in those terms.

With no sound Akanni rose and walked a few feet away from her. His legs trembled. He couldn't identify with these beings. They had all come from two different places. One was a place of hope, the other a place that had been filled with fear. One offered peace and salvation for those who were lost, the other offered chaos and condemnation for those who even set a weak paw or foot on its borders!

Akanni raised his head to the sky, searching, hoping, trying or wanting to understand. He was different from them and so was Dhoruba until…

What happened to that young Prince who slaughtered so many? What changed him?

_I did, and I can change you too, if you let Me, Akanni. No matter what you faced, Shabihi wanted you to trust me, and she still does. Lean on me, Akanni, and on those who wish to help you._

_Like Johari? How?_

There was no answer, but a reassurance in his spirit.

In silence he returned to Johari, sat down and glanced at her again. Her being here now scared him and the feelings he experienced in his chamber earlier that morning came flooding back. He liked her, but what did Dhoruba's revealing his past mean for his affection toward her? He was old enough to be her father! Now that he thought about it he couldn't be more than a few years younger than Bukua, if that. He shrugged it off. After the life he had before coming here, age didn't matter to him.

_Dhoruba, you were only three when you –_ He clenched his eyes shut and willed himself not to think about it. He knew he would just get angry again, but could he put it aside long enough to talk to Johari? With a sudden jerk, he snapped back to reality, unaware that his thoughts pulled him in.

"I'm sorry," he said to the lioness beside him. "I don't know if I can accept what you've said." He stared at her. "But, I will give it some thought, and pray about it." He gave a soft smile, and said, "If you don't mind I'd prefer we talk about something else."

She looked at him, seeing a fractured look in his red hazel eyes. He was like a cub who didn't want to talk about the bad things. Her heart went out to him, ached for what his life must have been like all those years wandering as a rogue. She hoped he would do what he said: think and pray about the lion he knew as a cub and the lion he knew now. She hoped he sought Rahimu on the matter. He didn't want to talk about the pain, and she respected that. But, she reasoned, he would have to in time. _Not now…_

Their eyes met and Akanni moved a little closer to her. He was glad she didn't move away, that his earlier outburst hadn't stunned her enough to make her afraid of him.

"Alright," she said with a soft smile. "What do you want to talk about?"

Feeling relaxed he breathed deeply. "I'd like to tell you about my adopted mother, Shabihi…"

He talked and she listened with genuine interest and by the time he was done, both of them had tears falling from their eyes. Johari put a paw on his comfortingly, for everything he had endured today, for everything he endured since the death of his real mother. She admired his strength, mourned his losses and wasn't worried when their heads rested against the other. The age difference didn't matter. She felt an attraction to a lost lion that was nearly desperate to be found and healed.

When they had no more tears left, neither moved apart. Akanni heard himself purr and felt a beat in his heart skip when she returned it.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

They were alone and silence, though excruciatingly painful, was their companion.

Dhoruba prayed for strength, knowing that his conversation would either make sure his marriage lasted until they died, or end it right here. _I love her, Rahimu. You wouldn't have blessed me with her if you did not think I was worthy of her._ He tried to look at her again, but couldn't. Shame filled his entire being.

When everyone left and it was just them, Kesha rose and walked a little ways from him, trying to gather her thoughts. She had listened to his story and while she did feel anger toward what he had done she also felt a strong sense pain for him. He had lived his life under a lion who wasn't even a father to him, who wasn't even a king. At least, not in the way she knew both terms. She and her mate had been raised very differently.

She couldn't imagine what his cubhood was like; let alone growing up every day where his every action was watched. If he messed up, even once, he was harmed and lectured on how he was weak and could be stronger. How he endured she had no idea and as he continued, regaling how he finally had enough and raised his claws against his father, mother and the rest of the pride, her heart sank into her stomach.

Ache filled her spirit. Everyone, save Akanni and his friends, had been a victim of Dhoruba's father and ultimately, in his horrific actions, Dhoruba took what his father did to a higher form. She could not nor would not justify his crime. But his spree had not lasted long, and he didn't go from one kingdom to another. No, it was only his father's kingdom, a realm that would have been his.

She sighed deeply, her soul hurting. Silently she wept and prayed. _Help me, Rahimu. I'm angry and sorrowful. Can I look at him the same way? Can I still call him my husband, the father of my children and my partner?_

_I was angry and sorrowful too, Kesha. I feel and share your pain. I wept for them, all of them, even the unrighteous king and his queen. I wept for Dhoruba when it was over because I love him. I wept for Akanni and Shabihi for the same reason. I had mercy on your husband. I led him here so he could know me through your father and love me. I gave him to you. You are gifts to each other from me._

The reality of the Lord's words worked their way through Kesha and her silent weeping turned to soft sobbing. _It hurts, Lord! Still loving him in the midst of this… I can't!_

_Yes, you can. Rely and lean on me and I will help you both through this._

A lump filled her throat, threatening to overtake her. They had been through so much together, her and Dhoruba, losses and joys, worry and happiness. Could she imagine herself with any other lion? She blinked and shut her eyes, the answer clear. _No._ Despite everything she had heard from her mate she still loved him.

_Kesha, love never fails. It bears, believes, endures and hopes._

The words reminded her of the vows she took and never failed to uphold. He didn't either. She needed him, always would, and he needed her. She still wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

_I can't do this without you._

_I am always with you, Kesha._

She sighed and sniffed, but her soul was at peace. She turned and walked back to Dhoruba who startled with wide and worried eyes at her approach.

"Kesha," her mate began. She let him. "I'm sorry. I d- I didn't mean to drop all this on you, but everything I said was true. The nightmares reminded me of everything. I thought I had it buried deep enough." He shrugged. "I guess I didn't. And… this will change things between us. If you want, I'll leave and you can forget about me. Jibade can take over. He's more than ready." Dhoruba started to pace, talking as he did. "You don't deserve a lion like me. I committed genocide and regicide. I sinned. Both innocent and guilty blood is on my claws and my soul. How can you even look at me?" Hot tears ran down his face.

The Queen stared at him and what he saw caused him to take a step back. "You're still my mate, Dhoruba," she said deliberately. "Let me say that I was surprised hearing about your past and I wish you hadn't endured such abuse. I don't condone what you did, but it's like Bukua said. The taste of blood can have a powerful affect on us." Her ears tipped back. "There have been many times when I've yearned to sink my teeth into more than just one fallen prey." When he turned away, she walked up to him and laid a paw on his. "Your father pushed you past the breaking point."

Dhoruba's mouth dried. What didn't she understand? "Kesha, I _lied_ to you about why I left my home pride!"

"You blocked the trauma of what you did. I think you were defending not only your mind from it, but your heart as well."

"My father –"

"Was a monster, but you're not. If you were you wouldn't have stopped at just one kingdom."

She had a point and he knew it. Everything she said made sense. "So you don't want me to leave?"

"Of course I don't. We need each other, and Jibade and Mpenzi need their father." She smiled gently. "And the Western Plains needs its King."

"If I had remembered when your father was alive –"

Kesha put her head against his. "He'd have seen the same torn look I saw when you were talking and he would have talked to you the way that I am."

He laid his head on her shoulder, a tear falling from both eyes. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

"I don't need to forgive you for something that happened long before we met. And in talking, you've discovered the reason behind your nightmares."

Dhoruba shivered, hoping he would no longer have them. "I'll need to tell Ibada, but not now. I don't think I have enough strength."

Kesha nodded. "Wait a few days. It can't hurt."

"I will." He paused, both of them unmoving. "Kesha," he then said, pulling away to look directly into her eyes and face. "If I hadn't blocked it, if I had come here knowing what I had done… Would you…"

"Would… I what?" she asked confused.

He looked down at his paws and the grass. "Would you have chosen me?" he asked weakly.

The question stunned and silenced her, but the thoughts she had earlier came back. She knew that not every kingdom was like hers, or that every King and Queen, or Regent leaders had a marriage and partnership like her parents. The same could be said now for her and Dhoruba. He wasn't perfect and she never expected him to be; he had suffered in his childhood and younger adulthood. He had been brought up by a monstrous, unrighteous King to be something similar, and found a way out. But he left a bloody mess behind him and defended himself against the aftermath. Her mate had come here wounded in more ways than one, found what he never had, drank in her father's goodness, and used it to try to heal his heart and spirit while his mind had reminded him these last few months of his sin, his failures, and the invisible blood on his paws and muzzle.

Kesha felt herself shake as her mate's words echoed in her head. _Would you have chosen me?_ It made her gasp without a noise. Her heartbeat slowed. On the inside she felt cold and slightly hurt. But wouldn't she have asked the same of him if their lives were reversed? She closed her eyes, fighting her own inner struggle.

_Rahimu!_

_Love even when it hurts, Kesha. Love him as I love him and you._

The words filled her spirit and spread. Reassurance and hope fell over her. "Yes," she heard herself say with her eyes open. She walked to him, hoping he wouldn't step back and thankful when he didn't. Kesha laid her head against his mane again, felt him bristle for a moment, and purred softly. "Yes, Dhoruba, if I had to do it all over again, I would have chosen you. We belong together. Rahimu wouldn't have thought otherwise."

His heart pounded, emotion and gratitude toward Rahimu moved his entire being. _Lord, with what I did, I still don't deserve her. Thank you for this blessing!_ He wrapped his head around her neck with a quiet purr of his own. Her love for him was insatiable, as was his for her. He couldn't thank her enough, or say he was sorry enough. If he did she would only say that she wouldn't leave him for the world. Slow tears leaked from his eyes and he cried quietly, wetting the fur on her neck as he did.

"I love you, Kesha," he said. And he meant it.

"I love you too."

Dhoruba wasn't sure what was going to happen any day after this. But there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty and it blew around him like the breeze. He was secure in his guardians' trust, his children's faith, Rahimu's blessings, and Kesha's never-ending commitment to and for him.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Yes, I've kept those who are still reading and reviewing this story waiting. I wish I could say that I'm sorry, but this story seems to get harder with each new chapter, and real life enjoys stepping in, disrupting the creativity process. So, I just want to say to those who have favored this story, thank you very much, and don't be afraid to leave a review, no matter what chapter it's for. It's okay to leave a review. It helps.

Now, on with the show!

**Chapter 13**

Confession is good for the soul, or at least, that's what he was supposed to think. Then again, Dhoruba wasn't sure what to think anymore. He had told his family and the guardians of his past, of the sins he committed in the form of regicide and genocide. Their reactions, their words still stunned and surprised him. He kept telling himself he didn't deserve it, their words of empathy and grace and forgiveness. All these things were still foreign to him, but it was how they were. It was how they were raised. It formed them, defined them.

He just wasn't like them!

His ears fell forward as he licked his maw while his heart beat softly in his chest, a sniff following soon after. It had been three days now since he told those closest to him. He was glad he did because the nightmares had become too much and his realization of what he had done – thanks to the nightmares and the dark voice – it was now or never and he chose now. It had been difficult, painful but they stood by him. His guardians swore their continued allegiance, his son and daughter spoke of their extended love and grace.

Then there was Kesha. Her reaction surprised him the most. She was his mate, his partner. She didn't have to say that she would stay with him and love him forever, but she did! Kesha had done something he was sure no other lioness would dare do, and he loved her for it even if he didn't understand it entirely.

Tears edged in his eyes and he closed them, sighing quietly. _Amri,_ he prayed, _I don't know if you taught her to do such a thing, but if you did… Thank you!_ He shifted his paws a little and his own weight, but he did not move fully. He was afraid to. The last three days had nearly done him in. If anything, it was all too much to bear, more so than telling his family and Bukua and his. Then there was young Akanni. Akanni, the only survivor from their homeland… He had all the right in the world and the heavens themselves to be furious and filled with righteous rage and the want to exact some sort of revenge. If it hadn't been for Johari and everyone else there Akanni would have surely challenged him in a fight to the death. The pain and anger that made themselves so clear in the young lion's red eyes was staggering and frightening Dhoruba had been ashamed to look at him. But he would have to.

For three days the King and the red maned male avoided each other as if one or both of them were sick. They'd been born and raised in the same pride, saw each other multiple times but never interacted. Now they were complete strangers thanks to the passage of time and Dhoruba's great sin. A thought passed the dark brown King, which caused his head to jerk. He was old enough to be Akanni's father!

Dhoruba bowed his head, eyes still closed. Pain gripped his heart as his emotions rose. "He'll hate me for the rest of his life," the lion said quietly. "I even hate myself." Anger for his actions, for what he had done to Akanni boiled over, and the tears flowed from his eyes like a hard rain, racking his body with sobs that nearly chocked the life out of him.

He wasn't sure how long he wept, wasn't sure if he could stop, but when it was over and he had no tears left it hurt to open his eyes and keep them opened. His whole body hurt, his forelegs trembled and his hind legs were numb. While art of him wanted to go back to the royal chamber and sleep next to his mate he simply had no strength to move.

Part of him hoped Hubiri would show up with the morning report on the animal representatives and whatever problems they had. Helping them was so much easier than dealing with the problems he had, however selfish that seemed. Dhoruba hadn't seen his advisor in days but he was grateful to have the time off. It was nice, just what he needed to sort through his nightmares and understand them. Now that he had he wasn't sure how to proceed. He saw himself differently, knew that his guards did too. They saw him as flawed, imperfect, someone who made tragic mistake and was willing, _trying_, every day to do right. Mpenzi and Jibade saw the same, as did their friends.

_What do I do now, Rahimu?_

As soon as the question was asked in his spirit, the answer came immediately.

_See Ibada._

His eyes opened suddenly and he no longer felt the sting of the tears he had shed. In that moment he realized something. He told Kesha that he would speak with Ibada as soon as he could, but he didn't do it the day after he confessed to her and the others. Instead, he took that day off and Kesha felt no need to remind him about seeing the shaman. They just spend the day together, him and Kesha. He told her as much as he could about his parents, his childhood and any friends he once had. She listened with genuine interest and never faltered when he mentioned some sort of pain he endured at his father's words or paws. Her ability to accept these things unnerved him, but they were also things he loved her for.

The second day he spent with the whole family – him, Kesha, Jibade and Mpenzi. He all hadn't had a day devoted to their family in years, not since Jibade and Mpenzi were cubs.

The words in his spirit rang throughout his body once more.

_See Ibada._

He shivered at the thought of it. Seeing Ibada would prove harder than facing his family and two closest friends. Ibada was different. He was a spiritual advisor with the ear of Heaven, and it wasn't the King's soul that needed help.

_I have You, Rahimu,_ Dhoruba thought. _I'm secure._

While his mind tried to convince him that there was no need to see the shaman, something told him he needed to. He knew Ibada wouldn't judge him or condemn him. The others hadn't, and he was thankful. Plus, Ibada had been worried about him, even tried to give him medicinal herbs to help him sleep, and asked of him during those times Kesha took over the duties with the animals. Ibada had been a friend, a counselor, and he, as much as the guardian family and his own, deserved an explanation.

"Okay," he said quietly, "I'll see Ibada."

Dhoruba shifted his paws and weight again, admiring the beauty of the lands that had been his home for several years. Times like these, when it was just him, he felt his age, all seven to eight seasons of them. He was glad no one said he was getting grey in his mane or that he was slowing down. He was a lion who kept himself in shape, something he couldn't afford to stop doing. Now and then he would give Bukua and his mate a day off so he could patrol the borders himself, which made him feel a few years younger. It invigorated him, made him feel like he was more than just a ruler who dealt with the animals problems while leaving the rest of it to those in his service. He loved doing both, but trading one for the other sometimes helped him physically and mentally.

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, silently praying for strength, and when he opened his eyes again he saw Kesha sitting on his right, just out of the corner of his eye. She had such a way of sneaking up, or beside someone, in this case.

Neither of them spoke. They barely exchanged words in peaceful moments like this, but for them words weren't needed. Dhoruba and Kesha sat on the ledge in silence, looking out into their lands, watching the animals they could see from their viewpoint graze or drink from the waterholes. Their whiskers twitched, their tails tapped, but no words were uttered.

Then Dhoruba looked at his mate, who, feeling his eyes on her, turned to face him.

"It's time I see Ibada," he said.

"Would you like me to go with you?"

For a moment he stared at Kesha then looked away, trying to keep his body from shaking. But it did anyway and guilt filled his mind. How many times did he tell himself that he didn't want to burden her by asking, or what often sounded like pleading, for her to join him on things like this? He had to do something for himself, on his own. Her reaction three days before and their conversation came back. Never in his life had he heard words of love and devotion. After what he did he was certain Rahimu had abandoned him.

Was Kesha an answer to a prayer he'd uttered years before in his wanderings?

Remembering her question, he tried to speak. "I…" He paused, tongue-tied.

"It's okay," Dhoruba heard her say softly. "I don't mind."

But he did and couldn't put it into words. He had been with her for years and every day she managed to surprise him. He was afraid if he asked why then she would give the same reply as she'd done many times before. She loved him and he didn't understand why, no matter how many times she'd said so. He was grateful for it, but he still didn't understand. Part of him wanted to see Ibada alone, while the other wanted her with him. It always went better with Kesha around. Her presence made him feel at ease, comfortable, but could she bear hearing his story again? Could he put her through that once more? Could he do it without her?

He closed his eyes. _I need her!_

From the moment they met she had been with him, even when she wasn't with him, by his side, she was in his thoughts, her words of continuous love and encouragement ringing through his ears. She was his confidence, his conscience, one of the few he could rely on and lean on. He would never admit it out loud but he needed her desperately. She was his everything, his other half.

Dhoruba breathed in and out slowly. "Kesha… would you?"

She laid her head against his mane, purring gently. "Yes," she replied.

He gave an inaudible sigh and nuzzled her lovingly.

In companionable silence, the King and Queen descended the stone ledge, down the few stone like steps and into the grass. Not wanting to keep Ibada waiting – if he was expecting them at all – and in order to keep his mind off of Kesha's words three days earlier Dhoruba challenged her to a race.

She gladly accepted.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Prince Jibade knew it was a risk, but it was one that he was willing to take. He glanced at the lion who had been his best friend since they were cubs and shook his head. Something happened to Hadhari since he and his father found Akanni passed out on the borders. That day, or the decision to take him to the caves, a decision made by Hadhari's father changed the young male. What was it about Akanni that brought out this bitter, angry side of him? They continued walking, stopping every few moments to 'patrol' what was the King's and what wasn't. Earlier, animals came up to Jibade and informed him of things, which made the Prince feel at peace, knowing that they cared for their homeland as much as he did.

Jibade could only admit it to himself but while his father's confession three days earlier had shaken him deeply, it was more than enough to make sure he kept his parents' teachings close to his heart. The confession was also what he needed because he and his family understood the reasons for his father's nightmares. As far as he knew, they seemed to be lessening. He desperately hoped for that. He wanted his father to find some peace.

While realizing his father committed murder he wasn't sure what shocked him more: that or Hadhari's cruelty for Akanni's reaction, which was more than understandable. Upon hearing that Jibade had had enough of his friend's mistreatment of the redmaned lion. He'd asked Hadhari to patrol with him today with the intention of confronting him once and for all. He waited for three days to put his words into practice and didn't want Nasila or Johari around when he actually spoke them. He would not upset them because he knew it was paining Nasila to see her brother act this way, and Johari was using her own energy to help Akanni. The two lionesses had enough to worry about.

He understood why his sister wanted no part of this and it made him laugh softly. Mpenzi was hardheaded, in her own way. She was quiet and tough, and once she got something on her mind, whatever it was she would see it through and put down anyone in her way. If it was her and him they would have started talking after they got a few feet from the caves and everyone's ears. Jibade loved his sister but he wanted this done his way.

"You okay, Jibade?"

The Prince jerked his head and turned to look at his friend, mildly surprised to see genuine concern on his face. _Ease your way into it,_ he thought. "Yeah, thanks."

"How are things with your father?"

"He's fine."

"His nightmares have stopped?" Hadhari asked.

"Yes, as far as I know."

Hadhari paused, weighing his words, then, "It bothers you, doesn't it?"

Jibade turned his head. "What?"

"Knowing he's a murderer," the guardian continued. "You can't stand there and tell me you're just all right with everything." He moved to stand in front of Jibade.

The Prince looked at his friend with narrowed eyes. "You heard what I said, and I meant every word."

"Come on, Jibade." Hadhari threw his head to the side and laughed. "I know you. You're smart, you can't possibly –"

"I can!" the Prince snapped, but before Hadhari could get a word in he quickly continued. "He's my _father_. No matter what he's done in the past, because it was in the past! He was a different lion. Weren't you listening? He was raised to be a monster and broke free from becoming one the only way he knew how. Do I condone it? No, I don't, but I will not – no, I refuse – to judge him and constantly remind of him of it. The nightmares do that so he doesn't need me or anyone else to do the same. And that includes you. His father was cruel, heartless, he isn't. He's more than made up for what he did."

The guardian just stared, refusing to believe what he was hearing. "You can't mean that. Your father murdered, he killed. I thought you held him in high regard."

"I still do, but no one is perfect. Everyone has flaws."

"Your grandfather, the Queen's father, didn't."

Jibade pawed the grass in front of him idly. "We don't know that. For all we know King Amri was a private lion."

"I wonder what he would have thought of the King's confession to slaughter."

"We can't ask ourselves a question like that. King Amri is gone and it's not even appropriate to bring him – my grandfather – into this!"

Hadhari shut his eyes in frustration. "Do you even hear yourself, Jibade?"

"Do you hear yourself? Why can't you just understand that my father isn't perfect? He was in a bad situation and couldn't take it anymore so he did the only thing he could think of. Yes, it was wrong, but sometimes one can only take so much abuse. He had enough. Wouldn't you?" Jibade paused and closed his eyes, forming his next words carefully while telling himself not to smack Hadhari in the face, claws in. "My father did a terrible thing, that's true, but he didn't make a habit of it." When the Prince opened his eyes again he prayed his friend would really hear him. "No matter the sin of his past, he is still my father and my King. I will stand by him as his son and Heir."

"What about Mpenzi?"

"Ask her."

"So that's it, then?" Hadhari asked in surprise. "You just accept your father's crime."

"For the last time I do not condone it. There's a difference between the two. Who am I to condemn my own father for something that happened before we were born?"

Hadhari had no answer. It was the same question the Prince had asked his father, a question he hoped the others would think of, which they did – his parents, Nasila, and later he learned, Johari. It was a question he still had trouble with, one he couldn't answer, but somewhere deep down he knew Jibade had more to say.

"One more thing," the royal lion continued, "why are you so determined to ruin Johari's relationship with Akanni?"

The guardian's ears perked up and his mouth opened a little. "She shouldn't be spending time with him."

"Why? So, he's older than her. It is not his fault."

Hadhari scoffed. "He's old enough to be her father."

"No one else has a problem. If Johari were your daughter I could understand your concern, but she's not. She's your younger sister, and who she spends time with is her business."

"Then, would you say the same if it were Mpenzi?" Hadhari asked with a narrowed, challenging look in his eyes.

The Prince met it. "You've asked me this before. You know the answer so I'm not going to tell you again." He closed his eyes, continuing. "Look, just leave Johari and Akanni alone. If your sister is happy, that's all that should matter." Without waiting for a response he started walking and spoke over his shoulder. "One other thing, Hadhari, if you love your little sister at all you'll stop telling her to quit being around Akanni. Johari may be quiet at times, but I'm sure she can show her temper if pressed." He paused. "You will lose her love if you continue this behavior."

Hadhari allowed the Prince to continue walking alone. He shifted his weight from one foreleg to the other, running Jibade's words in his mind. He shook his head quickly, a soft growl sounding from his throat.

_No,_ he thought. _Jibade, you speak with your heart, not your mind._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Ibada was certain he would see the King soon. It had been three days now since he felt something stirring in his spirit. He prayed about it and felt the assurance of Rahimu that, very soon, Dhoruba would come to him, having realized the meaning of his nightmares and would seek his counsel. Ibada had been sitting in front his tree in the grass, eating his morning fruit when he saw the King and Queen approach. Even from a good distance he could tell it was them because of their walk.

Queen Kesha's was full of grace and dignity, while her mate's was slow, reluctant, worried and hesitant. He appeared to have a large weight on his shoulders, almost to the point where he could crawl on his belly if he wanted to. The last bite Ibada took of the fruit revealed the core and the seed inside. He set it down and got to his feet, bowing. One look into King Dhoruba's pained eyes and he knew what this was about. It was time. He would give his ruler and friend, the counseling he desperately needed.

He spoke formally, not wanting to let them know that he had been anticipating this. "Good morning, your majesties. What can I do for you?"

Dhoruba looked at Kesha, who gave him a warm, reassuring smile. He faced the shaman. "I… I've discovered the meaning of the nightmares, Ibada." The lion paused and sighed. "You might want to sit back down for this."

Without speaking, Ibada did just that and wasn't too surprised when the leaders lay down beside each other. "Take your time, Dhoruba," the monkey said, putting his arms on knees. "I'm listening. Don't leave anything out."

Dhoruba sighed again, deeply, felt his heart pound, his stomach roll, and told himself that he had to do this. His family and friends heard, now it was time for the spiritual leader of the Western Plains to hear as well. After a few quiet moments, he started talking.

And Ibada, true to the word of a shaman, listened. His heart beat to the words the King spoke. Images of the events surrounding Dhoruba's life, from cubhood, to young adult hood flashed through his mind. While he didn't flinch outwardly, he felt himself do so on the inside. He had encountered young animals that had been abused by their parents, but this… what he was hearing bordered on sheer dominance and the pleasure of it! While Ibada himself believed in discipline for discipline's sake, he never condoned abuse for pleasurable purposes. It was unfathomable, disgusting, and against Rahimu. Ibada's heart fell into his stomach and his emotions rose while Dhoruba spoke of his father's cruelty towards him and his strong disbelief in Rahimu. It was that that filled the shaman's spirit with rage. He never heard of anyone blaspheme the name of the Lord in his life. Not even _his_ father would go to such lengths! Ibada felt his eyes burn and forced himself to calm down.

"… Then, one day, a storm was about to come and I couldn't take it anymore." Dhoruba side glanced at Kesha, blinked his eyes once and continued. "Something in me snapped and I attacked my father, killing him. I knew what I was doing, but after it was over…" He shut his eyes and felt himself shake with sharp tremors that made him feel as though claws were piercing through his fur, drawing his blood. The grass under his body made him itch. It pained him so that he got to his feet and, like before, started pacing, speaking as he did. "After it was over, I wanted more. I wanted those who didn't help me when I needed it to pay. I-I wanted them to feel what I always felt, even as an adult."

The King's eyes darted in all directions and he ceased his pacing, his eyes glazing over, as if remembering the rampage. His ears flickered and he nearly jerked away when he felt his mate's head on his shoulder. He forced himself to relax under her touch. She was only trying to comfort him but he wished she wouldn't. He wanted her to hate him!

Ibada's head jerked. The images of Dhoruba murdering his father were so clear it would take him the rest of his life to remove them. He clasped his hands together to keep them and his entire body from shaking. What his ruler went through when he was younger! _Rahimu… You were there. You could have interfered and saved him!_ As soon as the thought was finished Ibada quickly chastised himself. He stared at the royal couple, but his eyes were only on Dhoruba.

"Please, sire, go on," he said gently. But could he really hear anymore? He heard the good and the bad of others nearly every day, but this was different. This was personal. This was his King, the lion he anointed as the Western Plains' leader a few years ago. The lion whose son was to be the next ruler! Aside from Queen Kesha, Dhoruba was also King Amri's successor.

"The taste of my father's blood filled my senses so I let it control me, lead me." Dhoruba swallowed a large lump in his throat and moved his paws along the grass. "The next one I killed was my mother. I found her while she was away from the hunting party." A low growl formed. He didn't stifle it. "I spilled her blood because she didn't help me but one time when I was younger. I'm sure Father threatened her if she ever interfered for me again, so she didn't." His eyes flashed. "I wanted her to feel as helpless as I did. I reveled in the pleasure of feeling her life removed from her as my innocence had been from me. When she was dead, the blood lust grew stronger and I went after the hunting party, one by one, and then finally the rest of the pride, cubs included." A sharp shiver rolled up and down his back. He remembered the taste of the blood, the power, the strength and the harsh realities that caught up with him in the several days or weeks after the massacre. He felt a mix of great pleasure and pain at what he had done. He wasn't sure which feeling was worse.

Ibada knew that if he weren't a shaman he would have already fled from the King's presence. Faintly, he glanced up at the Queen, hopeful to get the same look that was on his painted face from her. Instead, all he saw was Queen Kesha turn her head a little toward her mate, watch as he moved back to her side, and put a her left paw on his right. Ibada stared as the lion looked at her with grief stricken eyes and what appeared to be a stare of some sort of thankfulness for her measure of comfort. The ordeal surprised Ibada, more so than the images of Dhoruba slaughtering the members of the pride he was born in. What kind of monarch was he serving?

Weakly, he held out his hand, a gesture that told Dhoruba to continue even though Ibada, in his mind, was screaming, _Stop! I don't want to hear anymore!_

Dhoruba lay down beside his mate, moving close so that their sides were touching. He bowed his head a little, his ears and stormy grey colored eyes flickering while his whiskers twitched. "Not long after that, a day, maybe two, I was in the process of killing another lioness while her young son watched."

He paused, felt himself shake, was certain that Kesha would either flinch or gasp in horror or get up in leave as he thought she would when she heard all of this just three days earlier. A glance at her from the corner of his right eye told her she wouldn't do any of these things. She remained rooted and it angered him. He wanted to snap because her love both pleased and enraged him.

He unsheathed his claws, watched them grip the small blades of green grass and forced himself to press onward. "Before I could let the lioness and her cub know that her son was next another lioness snatched him up and ran. Upon seeing that I vowed, out loud, that I would find and put an end to them. Then, I killed the lioness. It was still storming, too, not that I cared. I was so filled with anger and bloodlust I wasn't sure when I was going to stop or even if I could." Dhoruba swallowed. "I never found the lioness and the cub, though I did kill some of the animals who lived in the lands for the sake of just doing it." He shut his eyes tightly, resisting the urge to throw up. "When I had enough, I left the realm and became a rogue."

Swiftly, the lion opened his eyes again and stared directly at Ibada. "I could barely look at myself in my reflections in the waterholes and my sleep was often haunted." He gave a dry laugh, saying, "I was certain Rahimu had abandoned me. I probably prayed to him many times without realizing it and went for days without eating or drinking, and a few times even went without sleep." He shrugged. "I still have no idea what led me here or why Rahimu would give me, a murderer, a second chance at life, but He did, and He used King Amri to do it."

At the mention of the past ruler, Ibada's head snapped up. "D-did he know?" he asked curtly.

Dhoruba shook his head. "No. After I left and found myself unable to sleep because of the dreams I forced myself to forget. It wasn't until the nightmares came that, somewhere in the back of mind, I was slowly starting to remember, though I didn't remember fully until a few days ago." He turned his head to the left, looking down. His mouth was dry. "And all thanks to a certain guest of ours," he muttered, then just as quickly added, "Though it wasn't really his fault…" But it was a moment he would never forget, seeing Akanni standing several feet away from him. The young lion's eyes had narrowed to dangerous slits, the look on his face was full of such shock, surprise, and rage, Dhoruba was still surprised that Akanni didn't kill him before confronting him.

Ibada, just as the King thought he would, raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but, who do you mean?" For a moment he looked to the Queen, who only turned her eyes down to her paws. But she knew, Ibada thought. The exchanging looks between them had grown more frequent.

"Akanni," Dhoruba said softly, but just loud enough for Ibada and Kesha to hear. "He's the last survivor of my old pride. The lioness that snatched him – her name was Shabihi – died before he came here." _Thankfully Akanni was grown up when that happened,_ he thought.

The shaman rubbed the back of his neck with a hand; trying as hard as he could to process everything he'd been told. His heart beat loudly, his pulse pounded in his ears equally as loud and so hard he could hear it. The only thing he did now was nod weakly. It was the only thing he could do at the moment. Words failed him. _Rahimu, what's happening here?_

"He's angry," Dhoruba continued. "He has every right to be and I don't blame him for his ill feelings. Ibada, I came here because I wanted you to understand my nightmares now that I myself understand them." He sighed, shaking his head aggressively. "I sinned, gravely, so don't remind me. I'm unfit to rule the Western Plains, but –"

"But Rahimu, bless His name, as you said, gave you a second chance. Who am I to judge you?" Ibada shook his head, clasped his hands together. "The way you were raised, your parents… I truly am amazed with how you withstood it for so long. But, that day, you were at your breaking point. If you hadn't…" He flinched, mentally chastised himself, and buried his face in his hands, not speaking for a long moment.

The air around him turned cold and he prayed for warmth. When he looked up at the King, his King, again, he hoped the look on his face was enough to comfort the distressed lion. "Dhoruba," the monkey said, speaking his ruler's name with care, "I will never condone murder of any kind. To fight in defense of yourself or someone else is one thing, but what you did… You knew what you were doing, that much is clear. I've heard stories from the lionesses, cheetahs and leopards saying how hard it is to control the bloodlust in their bodies when they hunt. Sounds the same with you, but you let the bloodlust as you said, take control. Only when it was satisfied did you realize what you had done and left your homeland."

Ibada's voice then turned grave. "You just wanted the pain you endured at the paws of your father and the negligence of your mother to stop. You could only take so much." It wasn't a question, but a statement, a fact. "I won't judge you, nor will I condemn you, but I thank Rahimu that you didn't let the bloodlust take you to other kingdoms. I'm glad that you allowed King Amri teach you our way of life." For the first time since Dhoruba and Kesha arrived, the shaman allowed himself to smile. "You've certainly turned out the better for it."

He asked if Dhoruba had had any nightmares recently. The lion shook his head. No. He asked about the pride, the royal family and the guardians. Dhoruba said that only his children and the guardians knew the whole thing, and explained how Akanni found out, which led to the redmaned male angrily attacking him, which led to his son and the others, Kesha included, finding them, and that moment led to Dhoruba telling them about a past he thought he had forgotten.

"Akanni could barely stand listening to me and left. I don't blame him. I killed his friends and his mother, after all." He absently ran his tongue over his maw. "Bukua and Ajia still see me as their King and they've sworn their continued loyalty, despite knowing my past. Jibade and Mpenzi…" Here, he turned to look fully at Kesha and smiled with fatherly love and pride. "I couldn't ask for a better son and daughter," he said, facing Ibada again. "Kesha and I have taught them well. They neither condoned nor judged, but said they loved me and forgave me for a sin I committed long before they were born." Tears of gladness filled his eyes.

Ibada nodded, pleased that the King did not lose the love of his children or the support of his guardians. "Sire, if the nightmares return…"

"I'll see you immediately."

When the shaman turned to Kesha, the Queen merely looked at her mate, saying plainly and boldly, "I, too, have already forgiven him."

At that, Ibada felt the beat of his heart return to its normal slow rhythmic pace. The royal leaders left a few minutes later, and Ibada, feeling the numbness in his body, returned up to his tree and walked over to his grass bed. He collapsed into it, rolling on his back, his hands on his chest. His eyes searched the skies, and the leaves of the many branches above.

"Rahimu," the monkey prayed in a quiet voice, "you led Dhoruba here for a reason, Akanni too. I haven't even spoken to the other, but I worry for both of them. They'll have a lot of ground to cover, a lot to talk about. They've struggled and suffered, Lord. Will they ever find peace?" He waited with closed eyes, hoping for an answer. After a few long beats of his heart, there was none.

Ibada swallowed back his emotions, but the tears of sorrow and regret for Dhoruba's painful past began to rise and he allowed them to seep out. In his spirit he knew Rahimu would answer.

"But not yet," he told himself and drifted off into an exhaustive midday sleep.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The King's confession nearly stunned Akanni into complete silence. While his talk with Johari helped, if only a little, he was glad she did not pressure him to talk any further about his feelings that day. But it was that night, when he entered his chamber to sleep that caused him worry. As he expected, Johari had followed him and he resisted the urge to tell her to return to where her family slept. He knew that she had gone out of her way to find him, had chosen to stay at his side and saying nothing unless asked.

After his rightful explosion as he listened to King Dhoruba's past, Akanni had half expected Johari to avoid him altogether. But their talk when she sought him out… when he told her about Shabihi, how they had shed silent tears it caused him to feel a great unease. He knew Johari was unlike any lioness he had ever met and why, after everything she had learned, did she still choose to stay with him in his chamber?

It was a question he'd asked only in his mind as he watched her lay down and put her head on paws after bidding him a soft goodnight that made his heart beat just as softly in his chest. She was, in her own way, like Shabihi, quiet, reserved, never wavering in saying what was on her mind and relying on Rahimu to make sure that her words were right.

In the afternoon sun Akanni's whiskers twitched, his body aching for rest. He took a spot underneath a tree, which, thankfully, housed a waterhole not too far away. It was as though everything he needed was always ready when the need was great. If he needed shade, he found it. If he needed a waterhole, it was only a few steps away.

Since he arrived in the Western Plains he'd heard the animals, no matter what species they were, talk about how their needs were always provided for in one form or another, that it was Rahimu Himself who did the providing. In his years as a rogue, a wanderer, he sometimes remember the King of his home say that needs being met had nothing to do with a God watching over them, that everyone made their own luck, their way.

A gentle wind stirred; blowing so softly across Akanni's face he wasn't sure he even felt it. As a cub he wasn't entirely sure what to make of his sovereign's words, but his mother always told him that no matter what the King said, everything had meaning and reason, that everyone was created for some purpose.

"What we do with our lives matters, Akanni," she would say. "Rahimu only wants what's best for us." Then she would nuzzle him, and in a purr, say, "He wants what's best for you too, my son."

Akanni sighed and sniffed, remembering that Shabihi had said the same as much as she could, more so in the days after they fled their home to escape their murderous Prince. When he started growing his mane, he would tell himself that by some miracle the Prince was dead. That he either met with a malicious coalition of rogues and perished or died while hunting. That something, anything or anyone could have possibly taken the one who destroyed his and Shabihi's lives. Growing up thoughts such as that gave him temporary peace. Akanni shut his eyes. He had never told Shabihi. She'd had her own inner hurt to deal with and he never, not even once or by accident, burdened her with his.

_I hope you know I didn't mean to hide that from you,_ he thought sadly… or prayed?

With a grunt and a slight soft snarl he got to his feet and started walking again. Each step, however, proved to be painful, like his legs had no feeling. His back hurt but he had no urge to stop and stretch. His mind was a mess. He couldn't believe the situation he was in and found himself thankful that Shabihi – _Rahimu, give her peace – _that she did not live to see where he would have led them, inadvertently as it was. What would she have thought, said, or done? Would she have done what he wanted to do three days before when he finally recognized King Dhoruba? When the King admitted to the destruction of his birth pride, of the ones Akanni and Shabihi loved most dearly?

Another growl eased its way from his throat and he thanked Rahimu over and over for calling Shabihi to eternal rest, no matter how much it had hurt him to lose her. He had survived without her, got through the days of wandering as a rogue without her, but could he survive this? Knowing that the lion who took everything from him was King of this land, who had allowed Akanni permission to feel welcomed and at home?

The redmaned lion shook his head. It was becoming all too much. He couldn't look at Dhoruba or even attempt to talk to him anymore, to see and hear the words of a changed lion. In his own rage and anger, he had managed to sneak a few looks at the King while he spoke of his past. He saw conflict, pain, shame, but his own emotions upon remembering his mother's death and seeing the event play in his head was all he could take. After that, nothing else mattered and he didn't trust himself to hear the rest. It was why he left. He just couldn't risk doing something stupid and he didn't want to put any unnecessary worry on Johari.

One question weighed heavily on his heart, his mind, and it was not going to go away anytime soon. It had been gnawing at him for three days already. He let it come. Could he stay in the Western Plains under the leadership of the lion who killed his mother?

His heart pounded hard against his ribs and he forced himself to stop and endure the hard beats. He bowed his head, his mane falling into his face, clinging to the fur. Closing his eyes he prayed silently, desperately. _Rahimu,_ _what should I do?_ He felt anger rise again, wasn't sure if he wanted to stop it this time. Another breeze came by, but all he felt inside and out was cold. The worst part was that he had no one to talk to. There was no one in the Western Plains, aside from Johari that he could completely trust. These lions of the realm were still strangers to him; he hadn't been here long enough to speak with them on matters so personal, even with what he'd heard three days ago.

As he continued to walk, another question entered his mind, one that caused his heart to beat increasingly. _Can I stay here?_ Pain overwhelmed him, made him shut his eyes and stop in mid-walk once again. He tried to breathe, forced himself, but it felt as though he had no control of his own body. A sharp pain gripped his head, causing him to hiss loudly, and this time he couldn't breathe. He gasped, thinking he was going to vomit. His legs – front and back – were numb, like they weren't even attached to his body.

The question came again, full forced. _Can I __**stay**__ here?_ It was a good question, but painful nonetheless and he twirled it around in his head. Could he stay here knowing that the lion – Dhoruba – was the lion he'd dreamed out finding and killing when he was younger? The same Dhoruba who was King of these lands, the King who said he could stay for as long as he liked? What were Dhoruba's thoughts of him now, knowing that Akanni was the last survivor of their old pride? Wouldn't it be awkward or tempting for either of them to claw each other? Then he wondered if Dhoruba would even attack him. What if Akanni initiated the attack? Would Dhoruba fight to defend himself?

In the back of his mind he could hear a faint voice reminding him of what Johari had told him just three days ago.

_The lion you knew as a cub was raised by a tyrant,_ she had said.

That was true, and other than Dhoruba, he too had seen it for himself. Even now it still frightened him that one lion could inspire such fear in the minds and hearts of his subjects. Dhoruba's father had wanted to raise Dhoruba to be exactly like him!

Before he learned the truth Akanni had seen for himself that the King of this land wasn't like the one he had known… Dhoruba _wasn't_ like his father! The idea of it, or the reality, was too much to fathom. How could he, after so many years of living outside of a pride and the leadership of a King?

Slowly, Akanni opened his eyes and shifted the weight of his body a little, moving his forelegs up and down. Johari had, gently, slowly and carefully tried to convince him that the lion that had ruined his life wasn't the same lion who confessed to it. How he wanted to believe her! He had been grappling with that for the past three days. Could he believe her? Even if he did, how could he and Dhoruba make peace? There was still too much hurt, too much resentment, and too much anger and deep pain for them to just put aside the past. Was peace possible for them?

"It would take years," he said quietly. The same question came again and he spoke in the same quiet tone of voice. "Can I stay here after all this?" Uttered from his mouth, the answer seemed an impossible. He'd been here too long already; he couldn't just leave, even under the cover of the night sky. He had the trust of the royal family, Dhoruba included; his reaction to the King's past didn't matter because he posed no actual threat to them. He'd only acted in pain, sorrow.

Akanni shut his eyes, confused and filled with despair. How could they understand? How could they still see Dhoruba as their King? Was he missing something? He knew the inhabitants of the Western Plains believed firmly and strongly in Rahimu, but this! Their behavior reminded him of Shabihi and his real mother so much there were times he could barely stand it.

Akanni knew he could leave and they wouldn't be able to stop him. Nothing was keeping him here anyway, nothing and no…

_Johari,_ he then thought unwillingly. Sudden sadness gripped him as he realized he couldn't say goodbye to her, let alone think about it. She had endured scrutiny from her older brother because of him, but she had taken it in stride. Her actions surprised him, maybe even flattered him, if only a little. Of all the lions he met here, Johari's behavior astounded him the most. He knew she liked him, he liked her too, but everything she did had been for him and she never asked for anything in return. Her actions, inadvertently, gave him a reason to try and trust these lions, especially the royal family, but the only one he had ever talked to was Prince Jibade.

Deep down, he didn't want to leave. He had been without a pride for so long as it was… Johari would be saddened if he left, and he couldn't do that to her, no matter how good the reason was.

No, if he had any reason to stay, it was for her and all she had done for him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The night was cool, and the animals of the Western Plains who roamed at such a time decided to take advantage of having the lands all to themselves. The moon was full and the stars were out, which many were thankful for.

On the northern border of the kingdom, two animals, lions, stood side by side, watching and observing. One was bigger than the other, standing just a little taller than his counterpart. They were careful not to be seen, even more careful not to be heard.

The shorter lion turned to the other. "The truth is out. What happens next?"

"That's where you come in."

"Yeah… wait, me?"

"Yes. After all, you were there and you know the place. It's been so long for both of them that they won't remember. The only way to straighten this out once and for all is for them to return. They have to, otherwise…"

"Alright, I understand, but what about you?"

"I'll be there. However, you will speak with the younger lion while I talk with the King."

A shrug, then, "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"I didn't say that it would be, but it needs to be done."

"So… when…?"

"That depends on you."

"Then I'll need to move fast, let the King know I mean no harm."

"It is a good first step. The rest should come naturally."

An unsure, reluctant laugh sounded. "Is any of this natural?"

"I suppose not, but it is what it is."

The younger, shorter male turned his head to meet the eyes of the other, spoke with a voice of determination. "I won't let you down."

"You never have. Now, you'd best find a place to sleep. You will need all your strength to carry this task out."

"Thank you for choosing me."

"You're welcome. I will see you when it is time." With that the older lion turned and left, leaving the other to look at the lands ahead.

Sighing deeply, he spoke very softly to himself, "A painful past always hurts. But confronting it and letting it go opens the way to a better future."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Alright, as is custom around this time of year, this is gonna be my last chapter until the holidays are over. Hopefully I'll be more up to speed and posting in 2014.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** 2014, and I have a new chapter. Enjoy!

**Chapter 14**

Bukua had been a guardian of the Western Plains kingdom from the time his mane started to grow. Like his mate, he was a descendant of the first guardians who had settled with the first King, a lineage Bukua was fondly proud of. He had been born and raised in the guardianship, part of his parents only litter of cubs. He was also the oldest, destined to take over after his father passed or grew too old to keep patrolling.

In the end it was both. At the age of ten, Bukua's father, lead guardian of the Western Plains died in his sleep, making Bukua the new leader. The day his father was laid to the grass he promised to keep the teachings he had learned close and pass them on to his own cubs. Bukua and his brothers, Ulan and Kato, were four years of age then; their mother had given birth to them very late in life. King Amri had been the pride's ruler for only a few years at that point, having come to the throne at the age of three. Bukua, along with his brothers, were good friends of the King's children Princess Kesha and Prince Taraji.

As a cub he thought his life was peaceful and pleasant but quickly learned how dangerous patrolling could be. There were times when his father and some other guardians – a few lionesses, including Ajia's own father and mother – would come home with fresh scars on their bodies. But they would only tell their cubs that they were protecting the kingdom from invading rogues. Bukua knew his father had to endure a lot to keep the lands safe, saw how his father bore old and new scars with honor and pride. He made a promise that he would do the same when he grew and began his training, was glad to learn Ulan and Kato had done the same.

Bukua led the guardians with respect and dignity, asking them to patrol different sides of the kingdom every day. Ajia offered to patrol alongside him. Kato and Ulan playfully teased their older brother, saying the young lioness had a crush on him which turned out to be true, and neither brother was surprised when Bukua and Ajia announced their engagement a few weeks later.

Then came the day Bukua found a very weak lion on the borders of the Western Plains, asking for help. Raised with the idea that the realm he lived in was a haven for all and that not every rogue was after a coveted land, Bukua brought the weak lion into the pride on his back. He informed the King and retrieved the shaman with Ajia at his side. On their way to Ibada Bukua told her how he had come across the injured male. His brothers did not return from their patrol until dusk had fallen and the stars were coming out. After Ulan and Kato exchanged the events of their day Bukua told his as carefully as he could. The twin brothers were shocked, but said he had done the right thing. They never interacted with the strange lion whose name they soon learned was Dhoruba, though from a distance knew he posed no threat to the Western Plains or their King.

Time passed and no one in the pride was surprised when Princess Kesha and Dhoruba fell for each other. King Amri's heiress had found her chosen mate, and not long after Prince Taraji left for a kingdom just to the east of the Western Plains to marry its heiress. Ulan and Kato had been chosen to go with him permanently. Bukua wished his brothers safe travel and a good life. He missed them, more often now than he ever cared to admit, even to Ajia as much as he loved her and shared his thoughts with her.

King Dhoruba's revelation made him realize just how well and good he, Ulan and Kato had it with their father and family. He knew the same was true with Ajia and her family as well. But the revelation also saddened him. He and Ajia had tried their best and hardest to make sure Hadhari, Nasila and Johari were given everything they needed. They didn't want their son and daughters living with regret or painful memories.

Hearing the King's past, seeing the fear on his face that his family and the guardians would abandon him tore Bukua's heart and conscience, made him glad that he and his brothers had the kind of father who gave them wisdom, understanding and love. He had wanted to do the same for his own children, and it pleased him to the bottom of his heart and soul that Nasila and Johari turned out as well as he so often hoped. His daughters were beautiful lionesses, loving and gentle like their mother and not a day went by when he wasn't proud.

However, the same couldn't be said for his only son. He wanted to talk to Hadhari, to explain that the path he was taking would end unexpectedly. He wanted to lash out, chastise him for his foolish behavior towards the redmaned lion Akanni, who his youngest daughter was growing deeply fond of. He smiled at that. It was one of the few things that helped lift his mood over the last few days.

He didn't have to worry about Johari or her sister. Nasila could take care of herself and everyone in the pride knew of the strong affection she and Prince Jibade seemed to harbor for one another. Since his daughters were mere infants suckling at their mother's belly he had hoped they would find good lions to spend the rest of their lives with. Part of that hope had been replaced with joy when he learned his eldest daughter was in love with the Prince and heir to the Western Plains. It meant Nasila would be Queen one day, and any cubs she and Jibade produced would be of his and Ajia's lineage. There would be royal and guardian bloodlines living in the next generation of Western Plains' cubs.

Bukua's eyes misted a little at the idea until his heart fell. What his daughters were having and seemed to have, he wanted for his son. But Hadhari's behavior was getting to him, making him realize that if something wasn't done soon Hadhari would never have any sort of happiness or peace in his life.

_Today might be a good day to speak to him,_ the guard thought as he sat on the stone ledge watching the lands and the few animals that roamed. He breathed in the morning air through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth, slightly grateful for the feeling it gave.

Hadhari's actions and attitude worried him to the point where he was fearful for his son's soul. He bowed his head to think, and very soon his mind was made up. He would take the day off and spend it with Hadhari. He would try to make his son understand that his words and actions were nearly ruining his relationships with his sisters. Bukua himself had no problem with Johari's fondness for Akanni. He didn't care that the redmaned lion was old enough to be her father, just as long as he didn't hurt her. From the little he knew about Akanni, the lion wouldn't hurt anyone unless he was in danger.

"You were a rogue, Akanni, but not anymore," Bukua said softly to himself. "You're one of us now, a member of this pride." He looked around, glad that no one else was up. He couldn't remember the last time he had left his sleeping family to come out here and reflect on his life, past and present.

Bukua took in one more breath of air and got to his paws to return to the den. The sun was nowhere to be seen in the still very early dawn. The sky was light grey but Bukua could see the small bits of light purple colors on the horizon. He sighed quietly, grateful that he could return to his family and sleep beside Ajia a little longer. If he was going to talk to Hadhari he would need all his strength.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When the sun was high in the sky, its brilliant light spreading to nearly every corner of the Western Plains, Bukua approached his King, eyeing him with great care. It appeared that the ruler had slept well enough that his light gray eyes were not bloodshot and there was no present fatigue on his face.

Revealing his past after having just remembered it had to have taken a lot out of Dhoruba. More often than not he wondered about the King and Queen's talk after him, Ajia, their children and the royal couple's children left. He never asked because it wasn't his place, and it was a personal matter. But it didn't stop him from wondering. He cared for his leaders, for the lion he had saved several years before. He believed he owed Dhoruba, thinking that if he himself was ever in danger the King would save him without hesitation or doubt. He and Dhoruba were more than just guard and King, they were friends, and Bukua took his friendships seriously.

Face to face, Bukua bowed his head. "Good morning, Dhoruba," he said respectfully.

The dark brown lion returned the gesture. "Same to you, Bukua, is your family preparing to patrol?"

"Yes. Hadhari will be with me, Nasila would like to join Prince Jibade, and Ajia told me that she and Johari are going with the hunting party for a few days."

Dhoruba nodded, pleased with how Bukua had organized the pair-ups so quickly. "Good, good." He sighed, shaking his head a little. _That leaves only Akanni,_ he thought. _He has yet to talk to me. Is he going to stay or leave?_ "Well, I won't keep you any longer. Be safe, all of you."

"We will, sire," the guard replied and politely left to join his family and the Prince who waited in the grass near the cave. "Be careful out there and may Rahimu be with you." Quickly he looked at Hadhari who just barely managed to hide a roll of his eyes. This inaction caused Bukua's blood to boil. His eyes almost narrowed until he moved them from his son to the faces of his mate and daughters. He nuzzled Johari and did the same to Ajia, adding a kiss to her cheek, which she returned.

"Be safe on the hunt, my dear," he whispered.

She nuzzled him again, wishing him well on his patrol. "May Rahimu be with you too, Bukua," she said quietly.

They pulled away and he gave a short but tender nuzzle to Nasila. "You and Jibade look out for each other."

His eldest daughter smiled, her eyes shining bright in the light of the sun. Her fur glistened. "You and Hadhari as well, Father."

He couldn't help but notice the slight edge in her voice as she spoke her brother's name, but it was understandable. He'd had a feeling that Hadhari's behavior was getting to her too and he wouldn't be surprised if it was the topic of conversation between her and Jibade while they patrolled.

"We will be fine," Bukua replied with a smile, and he nodded to Jibade who returned the gesture. He turned to his son. "Let's go."

From the stone ledge, their front paws dangling over the edge, King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha watched as their son departed with Nasila, watched as Ajia and Johari went to the join the group of lionesses who would be taking part in the hunt led by Princess Mpenzi.

As soon as everyone went their separate ways Dhoruba turned to his mate. "Are you sure you don't want to hunt?" he asked quietly. "I imagine they could use you."

Kesha shook her head. "No, I trust Mpenzi. I've taught her everything she needs to know. I am convinced she and the party will return with a catch that should last at least a few days."

"Are they hunting close to the caves?"

"As close as they can. Mpenzi said that there was a small herd of antelope just to the south of the caves so there shouldn't be too much of a problem."

Dhoruba did not reply, breathing a sigh of regret instead. "I should have sent for Hubiri, but I told him that until I understood my nightmares I wasn't going to speak to the animals." He paused and shrugged. "I'm surprised the representatives haven't come stomping their hooves or roaring for me."

"Or maybe they've learned not to bother their King with foolish trifles and have learned to get along," Kesha said with a small soft laugh.

Dhoruba smiled a little. "Yeah, I can hope for that." He breathed in the sweet warm air. "But it has been nice not to hear their bickering. I could even get used to it."

Kesha looked at him, her evening blue eyes narrowed playfully. "You mean to _not_ hear their bickering every day?" She leaned against him. "Yes, it would be nice, but such peace is so short, and if they stopped bickering you and I would be bored out of our minds!"

He laid his head on top of hers, purring. "We could step down early and have Jibade and Nasila take over," he said softly.

She looked at him. "Dhoruba, they're not mates."

"Not yet, but I imagine they will be, sooner than we think. Kesha, we won't rule forever, and we are getting older. I would like to see our son and his future mate become King and Queen, wouldn't you?"

She considered it for a moment. "Yes, of course. I've just enjoyed being Queen, that's all. It's something I dreamed about as a cub, no matter how many times Taraji teased me." She felt Dhoruba's eyes on her and elaborated. "His teasing was playful, never did any harm."

The lion didn't reply or nod. Dreams of ruling were non-existent for him until he came to the Western Plains. He never thought about being King in his old pride, not the kind of King his father wanted him to be. He had always feared taking over, worried that the cruelty his father was so known for and tried so hard to place on him would show. He feared unleashing a similar fury among the pride during his reign.

When he fell in love with Kesha and received King Amri's blessing to marry her, it was through that marriage he had become another successor to the Western Plains leader and the throne. But he had been thoroughly hesitant to be known as the future King, reluctant to tell Kesha's father that he did not want the throne. He had been tempted many times to tell Amri that he just wanted to be Kesha's mate without a title. But in the end he relented, took the title, and made sure everyone knew that he was not Amri's true successor.

"Kesha is more Amri's heir than I," he had said on the day of his and Kesha's coronation ceremony. His brother-in-law, Taraji, now a King himself, had attended along with his mate and Bukua's brothers. "She is of his bloodline and legacy, and he lives on through her and her brother King Taraji. But just as Kesha is Queen of this land, I am its King, and I will do everything I can to keep and uphold all that Amri stood for." His speech was a surprised and had been enough to furthermore convince the animals that he was worthy to be called their King, which pleased them and the pride greatly.

Dhoruba sighed and breathed in the air one more time. "Jibade will make a great King," he said softly, but his words were just loud enough that Kesha heard him.

"Yes. We have trained him well." She nuzzled her head against his mane, giving a quiet sigh of her own. _Father… I hope you're proud of us._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bukua decided to let Hadhari take the lead in their patrols. They were on the southern side, a place where malicious rogues were rarely spotted. But it needed to be patrolled anyway, always, just in case. They couldn't be too careful. The Western Plains were precious to everyone, held a strong, rich history. Bukua wasn't the lazy type. His father never allowed it, not for him or his brothers and for that Bukua hoped his father rested in peaceful eternity with his mother and their ancestors.

There were days when he missed his parents, the family he was born into. There were days when he missed Ulan and Kato, the only other two, aside from Ajia he could confide his thoughts and fears to. He wished they were here right now. Kato had a quiet way of doing things. Ulan could be fierce in the way he spoke, but he was strong, a little rough around the edges at first glance, though everyone knew it was for intimidation purposes. Ulan was a loyal lion, capable, not afraid to speak his mind. Kato was loyal, capable, and quiet. He carried out his patrolling duties with no fuss. Bukua laughed softly and shook his mane. His brothers would never change unless it was necessary. They had served King Amri and now served his son in a kingdom to the east, while he, having also served King Amri, had been in the service of his daughter for the last several years.

Bukua wondered if he would live long enough to see his eldest daughter crowned with Prince Jibade, or if his brothers would see King Taraji's son do the same. He knew a long life was never guaranteed and that anyone who managed to live a long time and pass away in their sleep like his own father was lucky. He wanted to do that. He wanted to die with a gray mane surrounded by his children and their children. But it was too much to ask, let alone pray for, and he knew it. No one's life was guaranteed a long one, especially a guardian's. He could patrol, encounter a malicious rogue or two, fight them, lose, and that would be it.

Bukua knew the risks every day he went out and was never afraid. If he did die on the job it would be in service of his King and the kingdom. Neither he nor his brothers ever backed down from a challenge. But he had been afraid when his daughters started patrolling because they were lionesses and a lioness rarely stood a chance fighting a lion. Becoming guards was what they wanted and they were fully grown when they approached Bukua for the first time. He couldn't say no, couldn't tell them they had no business wanting to do what he did. They wanted to help so he said yes. Even Ajia patrolling often scared him, but she was a daughter of guardians. To patrol the Western Plains and keep the realm safe was in her blood as much as it was in him and his brothers. Ajia was fierce, strong, loyal and committed. His daughters were so like her!

_Hadhari…_

The older guard's head snapped up and he turned, watching his son mark some bushes. Sadness gripped him at how different his children were. Hadhari was the eldest, the only boy, so he had a natural inkling to protect his sisters, to make sure they were safe. He had a cautious personality, and Bukua and Ajia learned from the shaman that 'caution' was a meaning of their son's name.

As cubs Bukua's children rarely got into trouble and the royal cubs were much the same. They always did as they were told, stayed as close as they could to the lioness that looked after them and never let their time of playing get too rough or dangerous. But when they all became adults… Bukua shut his eyes for a moment and opened them again. They were all different now. Prince Jibade was fully aware of his responsibility as the next ruler of the Western Plains and wanted to uphold his family legacy. Princess Mpenzi wanted to lead the hunting party just like her grandmother the late Queen Malkia and make her own mother proud.

As for his own children, Nasila wanted to be a guardian like her mother and Bukua wasn't going to talk her out of it, knew Ajia wouldn't either. Johari found herself wanting to be both a guardian and part of the hunting party. Whichever path she chose he and Ajia would support her. That left Hadhari who was meant to take over for him as the next leader of the guardians. Not long ago such a thought would have made him smile with pride. He couldn't now. He loved his son, but the young lion's behavior with recent events made him wish it was all a mistake, that his son wasn't treating the red maned member of their pride like he had some deep, dark intention. He wished Hadhari had a bit more sympathy for their King who had a few days earlier told them a horrific and painful story – his own about where he came from and what he endured from the time he could walk, talk and be aware of his surroundings.

Bukua's front claws came out and he ran them along the grass. It was a habit. He didn't like personal conflict, and this was deeply personal. It affected him and his family. He sighed deeply, heard his son move and… He shut his eyes again; spoke a quick, quiet prayer. "Rahimu, be with me and help me make him see the truth." He turned. "Hadhari, we need to talk."

The light medium brown lion turned to face his father, their same very light blue green eyes locking only for a moment. Hadhari looked away first. "What is it?" he asked, and Bukua couldn't tell if the question was asked out of curiosity or annoyance.

The older guardian sighed softly. "We need to talk about you. About your feelings over King Dhoruba's past, and why you're cold, and sometimes mean to Akanni."

"Did Nasila or Johari put you up to this?"

The air around them seemed to change, grow cold, but Bukua wasn't going to stop. He had to know. "They're concerned. Your mother and I are too."

"So why isn't Mother here?"

"I wanted it to just be you and me."

"A father and son talk, huh? Look, Dad, I really don't –"

"Yes, you do," Bukua said a little sternly, "and you're going to hear me out. Son, I know listening to the King's past was a shock. It was to everyone, even his own family. But you mustn't condemn him. What he did… he thought there was no other way."

Hadhari rolled his eyes. "Dad, I heard all of this from Jibade. But he has to stand up for his father, being the King's son and all."

"It's more than that. Prince Jibade heard the same thing that you and I heard. He refuses to condemn his father for something that happened long ago. If you had been raised with a father like King Dhoruba's what would you have done?"

"I could ask you the same."

The older lion shrugged. "If I hadn't been raised the way I was… I probably would have done exactly what he did."

Hadhari's eyes widened, his mouth fell open in shock. "No, no, you wouldn't. T-this lion who killed… he is our King!"

"Yes," Bukua said, speaking slowly, "the Prince who did those things and the ruler you and I serve are the same lion, but their actions and behaviors are not. I believe King Dhoruba changed when he came here. He found what he never had in his old home – peace, safety, security, and Rahimu. If he were now the way he was when he killed his parents and the members of his old pride, I don't think any of us would be here. If he allowed the blood lust to move him away from his old home to another kingdom…" He shuddered at the thought and thanked Rahimu that the blood lust Dhoruba first felt when he murdered his father had stopped when he nearly killed every member of his pride. He felt himself flinch for such thankfulness. _But it's true Lord._

"I don't trust him," Hadhari said plainly.

_That's your choice, and I am sorry for it,_ Bukua thought, but his son's latest words were what he needed to push through. "Like you don't trust Akanni?" He waited and saw the young guard's eyes snap while his lips curled into a slight snarl.

"He's a rogue," Hadhari said quietly, but the way he said the words sounded near menacing.

"He didn't have a choice. He was only a cub when his mother died. Another lioness saved him and raised him; they had to leave their home." His ears flickered as his gaze fell to the grass at his paws. "I imagine it wasn't easy, not knowing if they would live to see the next day." He raised his eyes to Hadhari. "We're lucky, son. We don't know what Akanni had to endure. Instead of shunning him for being a rogue, you should be thankful he's not malicious." He thought his voice carried a strong, slight edge, a tone of voice he rarely used.

"I don't believe a word he says," Hadhari replied stubbornly. "It all seems too neat, too coincidental."

Bukua couldn't argue with that. "But is it really? The Lord does work in mysterious ways." Words he meant to think, he spoke aloud. "Nothing is beyond Him. Not Dhoruba coming here, King Amri accepting him and naming him, along with Kesha, as an Heir to the kingdom. Several years later Akanni comes here only to meet the lion that uprooted his life." Before Hadhari could reply, he continued, shifting his weight from leg to the other. Then he sat in the grass. "Listen, son, I know this is hard for you take in –"

"Cut it out, Dad. You have _no_ idea what this is like for me!" Hadhari sneered. "How can you be okay with this, any of it?" He shook his head, exasperated and started pacing, his tail lashing in angry strokes behind him. "This is his fault," he muttered.

"Who's fault, Hadhari?"

"Akanni, Dad! Everything that's happened lately is his fault! If he hadn't come here –"

"You're blaming Akanni for this?" He was so surprised he thought he hadn't heard clearly. But he had, and it angered him. Bukua found himself snarling. "Akanni has nothing to do with King Dhoruba's nightmares. He's innocent in all of this." The guardian shook his head in disbelief. "When we found him were we supposed to turn away and leave him there to die? Is that what you would have done?" He feared the answer but he needed to hear it, even if hearing it killed him.

"Maybe if you had let me make the decision we could have avoided all this."

One long look into his son's eyes told Bukua that he had no remorse for what he just said. He was firm and steadfast in his belief that Akanni's presence was the cause of their problems. But were they actually problems? The King had been suffering nightmares long before he and Hadhari found the red maned lion passed out on the borders! No, this would have happened anyway. One way or another King Dhoruba would have remembered what he did and he would have told those closest to him. He still would have told his family, and Bukua and his family the way he had done just a few days prior. He wasn't sure if the shaman knew and did not ask Dhoruba.

Bukua's eyes snapped. "Don't… you dare turn this around on me boy!" he said, growling softly.

"I'm not a boy anymore, Father!"

"You could have fooled me because you've been acting like it for far too long. What happened to you? You have never taken things so seriously like this. No, not seriously. You act as though Akanni is going to catch the King unawares and rip his throat out at any given moment."

Hadhari turned his face away. "Then I'd have good reason to kill him wouldn't I."

"To kill in defense of ourselves or others is one thing, but to murder for the sake of doing so is different."

"And what our King did so long ago is any better?"

Bukua shook his head again, suddenly feeling weary. He lay down in the grass and looked up at his son, sadness in his eyes. He hoped it filled his voice as he spoke. "You still don't understand, do you? Dhoruba was abused –"

"So it's Dhoruba now? What happened to calling him 'King Dhoruba' or 'the King'?"

"Yes, he is the King, but he is also a lion. He was a lion before he became King, and he was a lion who was born Prince."

"And abuse justifies murder?" Hadhari laughed ruefully.

"No! But when you endure abuse constantly, even for the tiniest thing and no one helps you for one reason or another you reach a breaking point. You'll do anything to make the pain stop."

"You talk as if you know. I thought your father was a good lion."

"He was."

"Then how can you speak like that when you personally don't know?"

Bukua's eyes met his son's and he spoke slowly and evenly. "It's how I have analyzed Dhoruba's past. I heard his words. When he told us I felt as though I was right there with him. I'm sure his son did too."

Silence filled the area, but no other words were exchanged between the father and son guardians. Then, after a while, Hadhari walked in a small circle and faced his father again. "Say what you want, but I will never look at the King the same again. Wonder what King Amri would have thought of all this."

"There's no point in wondering about that. King Amri is gone, and like it or not Dhoruba is still our King and we must honor him, respect him, and patrol his lands."

"They're more Queen Kesha's lands."

Bukua rose to his paws to stretch and Hadhari noticed that his father's front claws were out, a sign that meant he wanted to talk. _So, you planned this all along,_ he thought.

The older guard said, "That is true, but Dhoruba _is_ the King, an anointed sovereign." He stopped, hoping that at least this part of their conversation – or could it be called confrontation instead? – Hadhari would, if only a little, begin to understand. He prayed for it, but knew that in the end it was his son's choice. It was all up to him. At length, and very carefully staring at Hadhari, he opened his mouth to speak once more. "I'm asking you to be kinder to Akanni."

"Why? We don't know what his plans are." _Especially with Johari,_ he thought, his heart pounding. _If he so much as touches her –_

"I don't think he has any," Bukua replied. "How could he have known that the killer of his mother was going to be the same lion who accepted him into the pride?"

"Member of King Dhoruba's birth pride or not, he's still a rogue, and I don't trust him, plain and simple, Father."

"He's here to stay, Hadhari, so I suggest you begin to trust him. Have you ever talked to him?"

"Have you, or Mother?"

Bukua closed his mouth. His son had a point there. Could he… Yes, otherwise Hadhari would call him a hypocrite. "No, I haven't, but from what I have seen, I know him well enough to know he means us, the King and Johari not one bit of harm." He shrugged. "His anger about the King's past is more than understandable."

"How do we know he won't act against King Dhoruba because of their shared history?"

"He won't."

Hadhari's face hardened. "How do you know?"

"I have faith."

"That's not enough."

"I trust him."

"Yeah, sure you do."

Bukua sighed in frustration and shook his head. "It may not be enough for you, but it is for me."

Hadhari rolled his eyes and turned his back, his head low. "I don't want him around Johari."

"You mean you don't want her happy." It sounded harsh, maybe cruel, but truth was in his words. "Your sister appears to like Akanni. Why ruin it?"

"He's too old for her! He was a cub when the King…" He paused and let out an irritated breath. "You were there, you heard. She doesn't know him –"

"She spends a lot of time with him and they appear to enjoy each other's company. So Akanni is a year older, if that. It's not wrong. She's happy and that's all that matters." He wanted to say more but was tired. He felt he'd said enough and walked ahead, eyeing his son as he did. Then he stared, his words intentional. "Hadhari, I love you, but you're worrying me, and I worry because I love you. Your sisters are grown; you can't protect them from everything. Nasila is happy with Prince Jibade, and Johari is happy with Akanni. Your King has asked forgiveness for something he did long before he came here and you have not given it to him. You're no longer cautious, you're bitter." A soft sigh emitted from him. "I've said all I can. I guess I'm going to have to trust you to realize the error of your words and behavior with a clear heart and hope for the best." Bukua walked away.

Hadhari looked after his father and shook his head with narrowed eyes.

_**It's all too much, isn't it? Learning your King's bloody past, seeing your younger sister traipsing around with a lion who might as well be old enough to be her father. All of that would drive me crazy too!**_

The young guardian shivered. The strange, dark sounding voice had left a cold feeling in his heart. He wanted to pray to Rahimu, but the words wouldn't come. He wanted to trust his father, to believe him but he couldn't. He didn't trust his King, did not trust Akanni, and wasn't sure if he could trust Prince Jibade, who for as long as he could remember had been a brother to him since cubhood.

He would never admit it, but he wasn't sure if he could trust the One his family and friends put all of their hope and faith in. How could he have been born and raised among them and not have what they have?

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

From the time he was a cub Jibade believed in the good of others, that everyone and their own parents' were capable of it, but he also believed such a life was no easy task to achieve. It required both effort and weighing the choices everyone faced every moment of every day. He knew his parents had taught him and Mpenzi as best they could, and he was grateful. If they had flaws they were never shown in public. King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha kept their insecurities well hidden even from their own children.

As a cub Jibade once thought his father could do no wrong, was a shining example of what a King should be. If his grandfather, King Amri had lived longer he would have thought the same of him, but what he learned of his maternal grandfather often made his jaw drop. Everyone talked about King Amri like he was Rahimu incarnate. Jibade never believed it. To his young mind it would have seemed too simple, impossible, but he believed Rahimu had placed His wisdom and knowledge in the hearts of His creation, including the sovereigns who ruled kingdoms near the Western Plains and far from it. Jibade was sure good existed in all and he held onto that belief as he grew up.

Learning the truth about his father's past had shaken him, but not enough to remove his cub like beliefs. It was his mother, Queen Kesha, who taught him and his sister about Rahimu. Their father insisted, thinking she was best suited because he did not have her upbringing.

The Prince sighed quietly, his heart heavy. His father's confession about where he came from had been painful to hear but he knew that not all kingdoms were like the Western Plains, did not have such rich history steeped in guidance from the heavens. Once he started growing his mane he knew that not all were as fortunate as him, his sister, their friends, his mother, her brother and those they grew up with. No one's life was perfect and happy.

_If only it __**were**__ that simple_, the young lion thought with a slight shrug. He learned at a young age that everyone had choice. Not all of them would be good, mistakes would be made, bad decisions would affect the rest of your life, and the ones you love or like were not immortal including you. Death was part of life. It would feed some and be sick pleasure for others. Jibade had never been outside of the Western Plains in his life, did not know of the dangers and uncertainty that lay beyond the safety of a kingdom and pride. He was amazed that his father and Akanni braved it for so long. They could have died on any given day, could have stumbled upon a rogue or a coalition and lose their lives, or they could have died on a hunt gone wrong.

"Some die so that others may live," his mother told him in a grave voice. He had been a cub then and at the tilt of his head; the look of slight horror on his sister's face, Queen Kesha went on to explain as gently as possible.

When he and Mpenzi grew and went on their first hunt together they soon understood what it took to feed two lions, only able to imagine what it took to feed an entire pride of lions and lionesses. After that they learned the dangers and risks of hunting separately with no one to look out for them. Mpenzi later told him that she had been scared out of her mind, that her prey, an impala nearly kicked her in the head. It was a scare that lasted well over a moon, but she was able to hunt again with renewed confidence and success. After taking down her first kill she was welcomed into the hunting party with congratulations and praise.

Jibade shook his mane as he wondered about his father and felt regretful that he hadn't said goodbye before setting off on his patrol; they hadn't spoken since their family outing a few days earlier. The heaviness in his heart grew, but so did the anger against Hadhari for the way he acted when they learned the King's past. Jibade wanted to claw him, to snap at him for such rudeness. There was no place for condemnation against his father or against Akanni for his abrupt departure. Jibade couldn't personally understand what the other lion had gone through but he wouldn't judge him either. Nor his father, who was so desperate not to be like his own father he had done something wrong and terrible. But he did not let it lead him to other kingdoms and tear them apart.

No, his father did not need anyone to judge him; the nightmares were more than enough.

Jibade had wanted to speak with his father before leaving, but what could he say other than what had already been said a few days before? Could he say more to Hadhari while trying to keep his shock and anger to a minimum? It seemed that everything he wanted to say had already been said. Talking to Akanni would do nothing and he knew Johari was doing the best she could there. While the former rogue trusted him and his sister the only one he appeared comfortable with was Johari. Jibade felt a smile cross his face at that. He had no problem with the affection the two had for each other. He was happy about it, thinking that since Johari's own sister found love with him she was more than entitled to find happiness with someone too.

His brow furrowed as he moved to a nearby bush, looking away while he did his duty, his thoughts on how the shared past and revelations between the King and Akanni affected Johari's fondness for the redmaned lion. Finished, he shook his head. _It's none of my business,_ he thought while walking back to the lioness he loved as much as his father loved his mother. They shared a quick nuzzle and he felt his heart lift a little. He was glad she was here, had hoped to patrol with someone, _anyone_ except Hadhari. He wasn't sure he could deal with the young guardian's constant complaining about the events of the past few days. The last time they patrolled together he wanted to claw him but didn't, though the temptation was great.

"Are you okay?" Nasila asked as they pulled away, her eyes filled with concern.

He gave a short nod. Yes, and nuzzled her again.

They walked on in silence, the way their patrol had started, but it was companionable, brought on by understanding, respect, and neither wanted to discuss the last couple days. If they were any other creatures, raised by any other set of parents they would not have taken King Dhoruba's past, Akanni's outburst, or Hadhari's scorn well. Everything was still fresh in their minds, would be for a time, and both Jibade and Nasila agreed that it would do them no good to keep discussing it. Their final conclusions were enough. They just wanted a day where no words of it were exchanged; enjoy each other's company while patrolling their assigned area.

So far things had been quiet with no sign of strange activity or foreign scents in the air. It was days like this that made Jibade wish every day was similar. Then he winced a little at the pain in his front paws.

Nasila noticed. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Want to take a little break?" He scanned the area with his eyes. "There's a tree with shade just there," he added, with a foreleg raised, a paw pointed in the direction where he saw the aforementioned object.

"That would be nice," she said with a short nod.

They moved toward their destination until he stopped abruptly in his tracks, nearly knocking Nasila over.

"Oof! What is it, Jibade?" the lioness asked as she managed to keep her balance. Her voice betrayed slight annoyance, a moment that soon passed when she saw the alert look in his light grey colored eyes. "Jibade, what's –"

"Shh, be still and quiet," he said, speaking lowly. He sniffed the air and the claws on his front paws unsheathed. After another strong sniff a growl formed in his throat, his eyes narrowed and he spoke in his first ever commanding voice. "I am Prince Jibade of the Western Plains, and this land belongs to my father the King! Show yourself now!"

In the way the first words left his mouth Nasila stood to attention beside him, her form strong, the claws on her own front paws out, her teeth bared. She growled softly and snarled, ready to fight beside Jibade if it came to that. Encountering a rogue or rogues on the borders was a first for them, something that was bound to happen sooner or later. She took a fighting stance, waited for Jibade to make a move, and for the intruders however many there were, to appear. On this side there were a cluster of trees and bushes. Wherever Jibade caught the strange scent, the owner, or owners could be hiding behind any one of them.

"Be at peace, your highness," said a voice just ahead. "I mean no harm."

"Prove it," Jibade snarled. "Show yourself!"

Very slowly, a lion moved out of the coolness of the shade provided by a tree. There were no claws showing on any of the four paws, but the Prince and the lioness beside him did not let their guard down.

Nasila's ears flickered at the sight of the intruder. He was unlike anything she expected. He wasn't a well-built lion like her father, brother, Jibade, or the King. The lion before her was slender, skinny, with an unkempt mane and what appeared to be a graying muzzle. The male's mane and tail tuft was a dusty brown, the pelt on his body, paws, and around his eyes a light desert brown color, his muzzle and the inside of his ears a few shades lighter than the color of his body. The color of his eyes was light orange, the area outside of that was completely white. She noticed he was malnourished.

"Who is your father, your highness?" the lion spoke, his words laced with respect.

"You say you mean no harm, yet you wish to know the name of my father?"

"Prince Jibade, if I were younger and filled with selfishness I would take this kingdom." He paused, seeing the lion and lioness tense. Judging from the way the lioness had her claws out, the way her teeth were bared, the hairs along her back bristling he quickly noticed that she was trained to fight. She had the will of a guardian.

"Then you would have to fight the lions and lionesses who protect this realm," Jibade said.

The lion nodded and shifted his lack of weight from one leg to the other. "Yes, _if_ I was younger, but as you can see I am not. I have no doubt that you could take me down with all your youthful strength." He stared at the Prince, hoping his eyes held no intimidation. "I come here not to attempt to take a kingdom, but to ask only for refuge, a few days' worth and then I'll be on my way."

Part of him believed the lion's story and just by looking at him he could tell the older male had not eaten in days, had traveled into rough areas only to barely escape with his life. He had never seen anyone in such poor condition. Not even Akanni looked like this when he first came! Jibade's heart went out to this stranger, but he was still weary.

"Okay, you may follow us to our keep. There you will be introduced to the King and Queen, my parents. They will decide if you stay." With no other words he turned and headed in the direction of the pridal caverns, Nasila beside him. He sensed her worry, wanted to reassure her but dared not. They would talk later, first with his sister, her brother and sister, and possibly Akanni, unless he decided to give them privacy. Then he and Nasila would talk alone.

He felt a sharp shudder passed through him at how his father would take this. A slight jolt threatened to follow at the thought of how Hadhari, in his already angered condition, would take this.

"May I ask your name?" Jibade asked.

The lion was walking as carefully as he could on one side of the young royal and raised his head, speaking in an even voice. "My name is Rasuli, Prince Jibade."

When the lioness walking on Jibade's other side was introduced she dipped her head to him and said her name.

"Nasila," Rasuli said, adding a gentle smile. Then he asked, "Your highness, may ask of your father's name?"

Jibade sighed inwardly, hoping this old lion beside him either did not fight or simply could not. Both were wishful thinking he knew but given the situation he was in, hoping that he had done the right thing was all he could do. He refused to be like Hadhari, who was so suspicious and cautious of everyone these days he didn't know how to be anything else.

The Prince took a deep breath. "Dhoruba, King of the Western Plains."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Rasuli 'Messenger'


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Dhoruba wasn't sure what to make of the stranger in front him, but he had no cause to worry. His son certainly didn't, and he was the one – aside from Nasila – who brought the malnourished lion here in the first place. His emotions were running rampant and he wasn't sure which one was safe to feel. Pride in his son's actions filled him, causing his heart to swell. It was clear that Jibade thought over all the options he could take when he and Nasila came across the lion and bringing the stranger to him and Kesha was the right one. The Prince acted on his heart instead of his mind, saw a broken animal and wanted to provide help.

_Could he be anymore a son of the Western Plains or a grandson of Amri, _was Dhoruba's first thought after Jibade explained what had happened while he and Nasila were patrolling. Dhoruba believed that if it had been him and Kesha several years earlier while King Amri lived they would have done the same. Yes, he was very proud of his son and knew Bukua would be proud of his daughter. _It must be in the blood._

He felt a soft nudge at his shoulder and managed to turn to look into his mate's gentle but concerned evening blue eyes. They would make this decision together, just as they had when Bukua and Hadhari brought the fainted Akanni on their backs. Dhoruba shifted his weight from one paw to the other, suddenly feeling all seven (or was it eight?) of his years. He was tired in every aspect of the word, but he was a King and he had a job to do.

With a quiet sigh he shook his mane, smiled at Kesha and whispered to her. "What do you think?" He knew the rulers of the Western Plains turned no one away, especially lions who looked like the one their son and his future mate brought to them.

Kesha didn't hesitate in her response. Her voice was warm and caring. "To send him back out there is sending him to certain death. I'm sure the hunting party is bringing plenty of food to feed us for a time. I don't think one more animal in need of food, water and shelter can hurt."

Her words reminded him of something Amri had once said, and this lion's situation was similar to his and Akanni's. They too were in need of rest, a fresh carcass to eat and clear waterholes to drink from. But was this lion in need of something more? Did he have nowhere to go? What about family? Was someone missing him? He was in no shape to take a kingdom, and even if he were he would have to fight four very strong, powerful male lions.

He looked at Kesha again, nodded and quickly nuzzled her before turning back to the lion that, to his surprise, patiently waiting for an answer. Dhoruba was surprised the lion hadn't passed out from exhaustion or severe lack of food. Maybe there was strength in him yet.

"I'm sorry," the brown ruler started. "What was your name?"

"My name is Rasuli, Your Majesty," the lion said, just barely able to bow his head.

"You are more than welcome to stay in the Western Plains until you are well again."

Rasuli's mouth dropped open in surprise. He tried another bow, though it pained him to try. But he had to show respect, especially now, with the sanctuary he was just given. "Thank you, King Dhoruba, Queen Kesha. I am truly grateful, and I won't be a problem for you or your pride, you have my word."

"We believe you, Rasuli," Kesha said with a smile on her face. "My mate and I hope you are well treated during your stay here."

"If you don't mind, I should like to thank your son and the lioness Nasila." The leaders gave a nod of their heads, and Rasuli carefully, on still very weak legs made his way down the small stone-like steps into the grass where the Prince and the lioness guardian rested.

When the lion was almost out of his field of vision, Dhoruba sighed deeply and shook his head. He felt a tremor seize him, causing his whole body to shake. "Are you okay?" he heard Kesha ask.

He licked his mouth, his tongue sticky. The sudden dryness in his throat made him want to throw up. He moved away from her. "How often did your father have to deal with this sort of thing?"

Kesha took time to weigh the question. She had to be truthful but she wished she could lie to him and say not often. It happened a lot, so much it was always expected. She told him such and wasn't surprised to see the astonished look on his face. She began to explain. "Those who came with the first King of the Western Plains all had painful pasts they wanted to forget. There was a lion that was kicked out of his pride for plotting to kill the Prince, his half brother. The King was their father and there was jealousy between them, started by the Prince when they were cubs and it grew into adult rivalry. Another lion left his pride of his own choosing because he had thoughts of wanting to be more than just his King's advisor. He self-exiled himself so his thoughts wouldn't corrupt him. The lionesses that joined the first King and these lions, well…" She paused and felt herself wince. "Their stories were far from pleasant."

Dhoruba was silent. What could he say to that?

Kesha shook her head, feeling overwhelmed at the history of her friends' ancestors and inwardly that of her own. She sighed with pain and sniffed. "Every member of the first pride had to battle with their pasts and some… always remained haunted, tormented yet somehow managed to turn that pain into something good. They wanted to serve something greater, wanted purpose, the first rulers included. They wanted to help those who had none and provide for others when they themselves were hardly, if ever, provided for. It was a hard struggle but everyone managed to do it, and passed on such ways to their children."

Dhoruba didn't move nor did he speak. He wished he hadn't asked. All of this was still very new to him, despite the fact that he'd been living here for several years. After revealing his own tormented past he felt like a stranger, unfit to be a member of the lands and the pride. Part of him still wanted Kesha, Jibade and Mpenzi renounced him as their King and mate and father respectively but he knew they wouldn't.

Kesha kept her eyes on him, her ears flickering a little. "There were times when I would wake up for no reason only to see Father wasn't there beside Mother." She paused and heard herself smirk. "Being a kind of adventurous cub I would sneak out of our chambers, the main den and see him sitting on the stone ledge praying, asking Rahimu to watch over those who had no home to speak of, no family to turn to, and provide them with a fresh carcass to eat, clear water to drink, and a comfortable cave to sleep in." A fond smile filled her face. "He did it so much and so often I'm surprised I never followed in his pawprints. I don't think Taraji does either. My father made it his life to help others, both in the pride, and to those who just needed a fresh start." She moved upward and nuzzled Dhoruba gently. "He did the same for you and he would be very proud for what you've done with Akanni and Rasuli."

Her mate didn't reply, though his body was stiff. If he had known the sort of pride he had chosen to stay in… For at least several years he had been trying so hard to be one of these Western Plains inhabitants, to believe as they believe and treat others as they would, but he had only half accepted it. Hearing Kesha talk about the fond, happy memories of a few things her father did, and how they played on her face he understood why. He still had his own past to deal with like the long-dead lions and lionesses that set paw on these lands so long ago. Like them he wanted to forget. Given his pain, anger and the deep resentment he carried and for all he knew would always have against his parents and the members of his old pride, he wanted to make a difference and provide for others when he himself had barely been. He had done it for Akanni before he remembered the terrible things he had done. But he still felt like he was caught between his past and the present-future he had in the Western Plains.

The burning question that traveled through his mind was if he could let go of his past and fully move on in the hope he had here. He looked down at Kesha again and laid his chin atop her head, grateful that she was his and he was hers.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

As soon as he thanked Prince Jibade and Nasila for their kindness and help, Rasuli walked to a waterhole not far from the caves and drank deeply from it. He allowed his tongue to lap up as much of the cool liquid as it could though he swallowed the amount of water with care. He flexed his paws in the grass and dirt underneath to relax them, felt fatigue inside and out. He wanted to rest, but couldn't on an empty stomach. He was hungry and part of him wanted to hunt except his current condition would keep him from the act. He didn't want to wait, but there was no other choice and he couldn't ask the Prince or the young lioness to hunt for him even though he believed they would without hesitation.

He returned to where he could see the youthful felines and lay down, resting his head on his paws. He hoped they understood how tired he was and when they made no move to come toward him or attempt to talk to him he was grateful. Everything that had needed to be said was and it would have to be enough for everybody.

On the way to meet his parents, Jibade explained that he also had a sister. Rasuli nodded and smiled at that, only to repeat the same gestures when Nasila said she had her parents, and a brother sister, who, like her, were all guardians of the Western Plains. He wasn't sure what the young lioness's parents and sister were like, but he saw her eyes sharply snap when she mentioned her brother. Obviously there was something to that and he wasn't going to ask what, it wasn't his business anyway. He was here for just one reason and he would carry it out while making sure that he did not get involved in the pride's personal matters. He would have to plan his next moves very carefully.

Rasuli closed his eyes, grateful for the chance to close his mind for a little while, for his weary bones to relax, his senses to calm. He had never been so exhausted in his life. He wasn't sure how long he slept, how much time passed or if he had missed anything important due to his strong, self-induced nap until something that felt like a nudge woke him. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Prince Jibade's gentle face. The young royal lion had a broad, welcoming smile. _Like a shining ray of the sun,_ Rasuli thought. _You're going to make a good King._ He managed to rise and sit on his haunches.

"My father wants to let you know that when you are ready you may have a piece of the kill."

Confused (probably because he was still tired and trying to fully wake) Rasuli looked past Jibade to see two antelope carcasses, each almost stripped to the bone. Upon further examination from where he sat, he also noticed what appeared to be the Western Plains' lions and lionesses eating. If any of them had noticed his presence they did not appear alarmed. Had the King and Queen told them he would be staying for a while? He saw a few lionesses look his way. Neither seemed to be worried nor threatened. Instead, they bowed their heads a little and returned to their pieces of the carcasses.

Rasuli felt himself relax until his eyes came upon a slightly old lion and lioness he assumed were Nasila's parents. They were lying near King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha. For all he knew they were all friends. Nasila's father noticed him staring and did the same, but as with the couple lionesses he received no threatening look or cause for alarm. What he received was a smile similar to Prince Jibade's. Rasuli was astonished. Did everyone in this pride take their King at his word? He'd heard that the pride of the Western Plains had a reputation of helping wayward lions and lionesses but to experience it for himself… He swallowed and managed to resist a rueful laugh. What had he gotten himself into?

"You don't need to worry about the guardians, Rasuli," he heard the Prince say.

He looked at him. "Believe me, your highness, I'm not. I can see that they don't view me as a threat, for which I am glad." He got to his paws, stretching a little. "If you don't mind my asking, did your father tell them what you and Nasila told him and your mother?"

Jibade nodded. "Yes, they did, and my father made it quite clear that you mean us and him no harm. If you did…" He paused.

Rasuli was quick to understand. "Just so you are aware I don't blame anyone their need for caution or worry." He shifted what weight he had from one paw to the other. His stomach was also starting to hurt again. Hunger pangs. He winced.

"Come with me, I'll take you to the carcasses. They're not far."

"Thank you, Prince Jibade, but I'll be okay." It was then he noticed the younger lion's eyes flicker. Was that worry or anxiety he saw? Was it for him?

"Rasuli…" Jibade began in a sudden nervous voice. "I don't know you, but I do know everyone in this pride. There is one lion here I… I'm having a hard time trusting these days, and I have this strong feeling that he is not taking your presence well. Since I am the one, aside from Nasila, who brought you here, I consider it my duty not only as Prince, but as the future King to keep an eye on you and make sure that you are well treated by everyone in this pride." _And that includes Hadhari whether he likes it or not!_

The older lion smiled and shook his head a little in amazement. What courage and humility this young lion had! Then he stared into Jibade's light gray colored eyes. "I appreciate that, but I will be fine. I'm pretty good at taking care of myself and I won't allow you to forget your ordinary duties to look after an old newcomer like me."

Jibade wanted to say more but the dusty brown maned lion's words told him that his mind was made up. _Still…_ He shrugged, silently surrendered and nodded once. "All right, I understand, but I'm going to make sure this lion doesn't bother you. If he does, please, don't hesitate to tell me. I will deal with him."

Rasuli smiled. "I shall, and thank you for your offer of protection, your highness." He waited until Jibade said he was welcome and walked over to the carcasses, gently smiling to any pride member who managed to look in his direction. Quickly, he tore a good-sized piece and when no one spoke he sighed inwardly with relief and returned on tense legs to where he had laid down, soon sinking his teeth into the meat and swallowing.

After that first, wonderful tasting bite he took time to repeat the process. Except for this one lion Jibade had mentioned there was no reason for him to fear that any member of the Western Plains pride would try to harm him. As he began to take a second bite he remembered the look in Nasila's eyes when she told him that she had a brother. Even though he was an old lion it didn't take long to understand the lion Jibade had just told him about was Nasila's brother. He felt himself shrug and sent a silent prayer for the two siblings and whatever sort of problems they were having. He didn't want to get involved but he could still hope their troubles would be resolved in time.

Upon taking another bite he found himself looking for Jibade only to see him with a group of young lions and lionesses, one of them being Nasila. He wasn't sure who their respective sisters were but he did notice two lions among them, one who was probably Nasila's brother. Then he quickly looked away and sensed hard, painful tension between all of them and knew it had nothing to do with him being in the pride. At least, he hoped not. No, whatever the tension was among that group he wasn't the cause. He was unable to resist sending another prayer to Rahimu for them and continued eating while savoring each delicious bite he took. A few more pieces of meat like this along with plenty of rest for what he hoped to be a few days and he would regain his strength in no time. Once he did he could really get to work and carry out his task.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Hadhari, what were we supposed to do?" Nasila asked her brother with slightly narrowed eyes. Using that gesture when she was around him was beginning to be a common thing and as much as she hated it she could do nothing else.

Her brother, in turn, narrowed his own light green eyes and heard himself snarl. "You shouldn't have brought him here in the first place!"

Nasila pinned her ears back, grateful that Johari and Akanni were with her parents who had ended their conversation with the King and Queen. No doubt, they too, were talking about Rasuli. "It wasn't my decision to make. It was Jibade's, and he did what he thought was right. As did our father not so long ago, or have you forgotten?"

A soft growl emitted from Hadhari's throat. "No," he said softly, with barely restrained anger, "I haven't. To be honest, dear sister, I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Her eyes grew wide. "What are you expecting, every pride member to abandon what they stand for? It was for reasons like this that the first King formed his pride and settled in this land. Are we supposed to turn away every lion or lioness in need of help?"

Hadhari turned his face to the side, muttering, "Maybe we should."

"If that's the way you feel you don't deserve to call yourself a guardian." Nasila hissed. "Not every rogue we encounter is out for a kingdom. Some are like Akanni and Rasuli – wanting something to eat, a fresh waterhole to drink out of and a cave to rest in. That's all, nothing more, nothing less. If you were them –"

"I'm not," her brother nearly shouted in reply. "And I don't appreciate being compared to this rogue and that red-maned lion."

"That red-maned lion has a name."

"I don't care. I don't want either of them here, and I especially want Johari to stop hanging around Akanni."

Nasila shook her head, frustrated. "There's nothing you can do about any of these things. Akanni is here to stay, Rasuli I don't know, not that it matters. As for Johari, she's a grown lioness and we can't always protect her. Akanni has never been cruel to her and I don't think he ever will be. She can take care of herself and she appears to be happy when she's around him. That's not wrong."

"Father said the same." He saw his sister's face turned to surprise. "Yes, He talked to me today, much to my annoyance." And he rolled his eyes as if to confirm it.

"Hadhari, he's just worried about you. We all are."

"Let me guess: Because I'm not like the rest of you?"

Nasila swallowed, her heart sinking. "As a cub you were." Her voice nearly broke. "What happened?"

His eyes hardened. "I haven't questioned it and I'm not going to start."

Nasila closed her eyes, her heart hurting. "I wish you would. Your life would be different."

"Maybe I was just tired of being like you and hearing Father and Mother constantly talk about Rahimu's goodness. I could only take so much of it."

"No, you just stopped taking and embracing it." She paused and gave a hard sigh. "It's getting difficult for all of us to be around you, and I can't imagine what it's doing to Mom and Dad. Hadhari, I love you, but I can only say so much."

"Then stop, you're wasting your breath. Father certainly did." He shook his mane stubbornly.

"Look, all I'm asking is that you stay away from Rasuli for as long as he's here. He has done nothing except ask for what any lion or lioness in his position would. If you were him –"

"I'm not."

"Wouldn't you ask for help if you were?"

The question stunned Hadhari into silence. He either did not want to speak, or knew his answer would upset her. Maybe that's what he wanted. He softly groaned. Didn't they understand his side to any of this?

"I'm not sure how long Rasuli is going to be here, or if he is going to ask to join our pride."

"He'd better not."

Nasila quietly growled, the fur along her back beginning to bristle. "It's not your decision! If he stays, he stays and if you so much as try something, Father could remove you from the guardianship, if King Dhoruba doesn't do it first for abusing your position."

Her brother gave a rueful smirk upon hearing that. Then he said, "You should have stopped Jibade."

"He is the Prince. We both found Rasuli and saw no other motive. While he's here don't go anywhere near him."

"Yeah, like I'd really allow myself to sit near a rogue. I'm not a fool."

"No, you're just bitter. I feel sorry for you and I'm not the only one."

Hadhari did not speak for a long moment and then looked all around him, but he didn't see how different the lands looked in the light of the setting sun. He wasn't sure what he saw, just knew his way of seeing things was vastly different from his friends and family. He shifted his weight as his whiskers flickered.

"I should have gone with Jibade instead of having to spend the whole day with Father listening to him lecture me."

Nasila licked her maw and swallowed, feeling the dryness in her throat. "He wanted to get his feelings out in the open, to let you know that your behavior is unacceptable."

A dark shadow covered his eyes and it wasn't the shadows surrounding the lands because of the sun's descent. "It's not my behavior that's unacceptable, sister. If I had been with Jibade I would have stopped him from letting this new filth into our homeland."

Before the lioness could reply, though her eyes widened in the horror of his statement and the blood in her body boiled, mixed with the strong, sudden rage she felt she was unable to pin her brother to the ground and stare at him with an anger she had never felt in her life. Her left ear moved a little as she heard a low, dangerous growl on her left side. She did not know the sound well – it was a rarity (or was it really for the first time?) but out of the corner of her eye she saw the black mane and light medium brown sandy like fur. His teeth were bared, his light gray eyes flashed with an anger that if one look into them could kill a predator or prey they would be dead in a moment.

Seeing Jibade like this frightened her. It was a first and she hoped she was strong enough to see it again, if she ever would. Now she sent a silent prayer of thankfulness that Mpenzi, Johari and Akanni were not here to see this. She wasn't sure where the Princess was. Mpenzi, it seemed, had nearly distanced herself from the rest of them. Nasila couldn't blame her. _Maybe she thinks that if Hadhari can go against what he's been taught, she can too and wants to avoid it._

"That's quite enough, Hadhari. Return to your meat, unless you have already eaten it. If you have, take a walk until you've calmed down."

Nasila was surprised that his words were uttered with such control. If it had been her father or the King… the thought made her shudder. She quickly glanced at Jibade. The look on both his face and eyes was still there. She took a glance at his legs and noticed that they were close to shaking with the rage that was, without a doubt, filling his entire body. His tail wasn't switching, but Nasila knew that at any moment it might. Her brother and the lion Prince she loved were locked in what could quickly become a deadly standoff.

Hoping neither male would care, she slipped away, wanting, needing to get away from both of them, and she was glad that no one in the pride noticed what was happening. Her heart beat heavily and it hurt to breathe. Whatever Jibade was going to do she hoped he wouldn't do anything drastic, realize she had left and find her. A thought entered her mind but she quickly pushed it away as tears threatened to form and fall from her eyes. It hurt to think about praying again, but as she walked it was the only thing she could do.

The sky was beginning to turn. Night was coming. The air was cool and there was no breeze, all of which she found a bit of comfort in.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Both lions believed Nasila had left, but neither had really paid attention. Their eyes and stares still held, both intense. Jibade's wished his weren't but it seemed there was little choice in the matter. There was also a lack of understanding, or the way recent events were being understood by certain individuals. Had his father's confession of his brutal past done this, or had it been a long time coming no matter what? Maybe there was no answer and this was just a result of the choices individuals made throughout the course of their lives.

The guardian allowed his eyes to burn into the Prince's, knowing with full clarity that if Jibade were any other lion… "Is this a suggestion, an order, or a command?" It wasn't a question, but a snide remark.

"Consider it a friendly warning, which I recommend you take," Jibade replied, surprised that he was able to speak in a near emotionless voice. Part of him wanted run his claws across the lion's face. But he couldn't, whether Nasila was standing beside him or not. Either way her brother had given her and all of them enough pain for today. "Go… now!"

Hadhari humphed with a smirk and walked away, not once looking back except to mutter in a soft voice, "You all keep this up, doing what our ancestors did, and the Western Plains is going to be taken over if not by a rogue who can take down multiple lions then by a strong coalition. When that happens, Jibade, what will your faith in Rahimu mean then?" He hoped Jibade heard him.

The Prince shivered at the words, shut his eyes for a moment until the feeling of fear passed and opened them again. When he did, his vision was unfocused so he gently closed his eyes, shook his head slowly and tried again. He could see better now, but Hadhari's words had made their intended impact. His mouth was dry, his body ached and he hoped Rasuli could find a place in the pride's keep without too much trouble.

He wasn't sure if his parents or Nasila's parents had heard the confrontation – he wished for neither since both pairs had enough to deal with, his own father especially – and knew that his want for a peaceful night, the wonderful feeling he'd felt for much of the afternoon and early evening that he and Nasila had done the right thing today was now taken. Jibade quickly looked around the pride, seeing that a few lionesses were beginning to turn in for the night. The guardians, and Johari and Akanni would as well. His parents and Mpenzi wouldn't be too far behind.

He blinked his eyes, feeling fatigue settle on him in a way he had never felt and shrugged it off, his face still angry, though slowly softening to what he thought was painful regret and sniffed the air. When he found the scent he wanted he started to move in the direction it would lead. He couldn't fault her for leaving while he and Hadhari stared at each other and he couldn't imagine what had gone through her mind to see him in such an angry state. It was a first for him. He had been angry at Hadhari before but never like this. He knew Nasila could find her way back to the caves well enough, but he would not forgive himself if her brother decided to do something stupid, like harass her about Rasuli or Akanni and Johari again. He wouldn't let him go so easily then.

The air was cool without a breeze, but he didn't feel it. Instead, all he felt was the blood heating his body and prayed for some calmness and peace. He would rather he and Nasila return home together. With Hadhari in his current state… he couldn't take the risk. The thought caused great pain. Did Hadhari pose a risk to his own sister, his family?

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bukua and Ajia watched as the last few members of the pride went into the den to sleep. The King and Queen had parted for their chambers sometime ago, their daughter just behind them. But Prince Jibade was nowhere to be found, nor was Nasila.

Akanni disappeared into his own cave as soon as the night sky began to make his appearance and neither Bukua nor his mate was surprised when Johari followed him. They could not reprimand her. She was full grown and capable of making her own decisions. Akanni, they knew, was not the kind of lion to take advantage of a lioness. Bukua knew that Akanni knew how special his precious jewel was to him, his last grown cub. The redmaned lion more than proved he could be trustworthy around her and Johari appeared to trust him completely. When it came to her and Akanni spending time together he and Ajia couldn't say otherwise.

They knew when to let go and refused to be the kind of parents who were so overprotective that their children had no choice but to rebel against them and remove themselves from their parents' lives. No, Johari was fine, more than fine. It was their two eldest children they were worried about, the reasons why he and Ajia hadn't turned in yet.

After returning from their respective patrols, Bukua told his mate of his confrontation with Hadhari.

"How did it go?" Ajia asked and when he explained the whole thing in the quickest manner he could the lioness could only shake her head in dismay.

"I told him the truth," Bukua said, his voice sad, his face expressing just how pained he was in that moment. His son's responses to every question he'd asked stayed with him through the rest of the patrols. They sickened him, mocked him, inwardly telling him that he had wasted his time and his breath and that no amount of prodding on his part or anyone else's was going to change Hadhari's behavior.

Ajia told him that he had done his best and nuzzled him gently. Upon seeing the strange clearly malnourished lion the two instantly saw him as someone in need of temporary shelter. They ate their pieces of the kills with Dhoruba and Kesha and learned how Prince Jibade and Nasila patrolled and found the rogue lion. Making a decision based on what they were told, Jibade and Nasila led them to their keep and introduced him to the King and Queen. Bukua had always thought himself proud of his daughters but Nasila's actions made fatherly pride surge through every nerve in his body. He knew the same was true for Ajia.

Throughout the course of the meal, Bukua and the lion Rasuli exchanged silent glances. The guardian could see the rogue meant no harm and from the shape he was in had no physical strength to fight. He was an old lion, one who had probably seen much and been through plenty in his lifetime. Bukua quietly thanked Rahimu that it was his daughter and Jibade who found Rasuli instead of him and Hadhari, who was bound to make a big deal out of "another strange lion setting paw on our lands with the intentions to stay for a few days only to stay permanently with the King and Queen's permission". He gave Rasuli a warm gentle smile, trying to assure the older lion that he would not be harmed by any of the guardians he led which seemed to work when he saw Rasuli relax his tense body.

After Bukua and Ajia finished their meat they moved away from Dhoruba and Kesha, intending to give their friends time alone and were soon joined by Johari and Akanni. The four engaged in polite conversation, but it soon moved to Rasuli as Bukua expected. The skinny rogue was probably the topic of conversation among everyone in the pride and would be until he decided whether to leave or ask for permission to fully stay. Akanni asked if lions like Rasuli or himself asked for temporary shelter often. Bukua was truthful in his answer, saying, "Yes." Akanni didn't speak after that, mentally chewing on the response. Johari gently laid a paw on his at that which caused her father to smile.

Bukua felt himself tremble and jerk slightly. He turned his head and the words were out before he could stop them. "Do you think I was too harsh on him?"

Ajia stared at him, knowing who her mate was referring to. "No. He needed to hear everything you told him. I'd have said the same things."

"I just wish he'd understand!"

The lioness swallowed a large lump of sorrow in her throat and nodded, her silence speaking louder than any words she could have spoken. Her heart ached and she wished she could cuff some sense into her stubborn son and, like Bukua, attempt to make him see how his behavior was affecting his family. Did he even care about them? When Ajia did manage to speak, her throat nearly closed.

"You told him as much as you could, Bukua. It's up to him to take it or not." Even as she said the words she knew her son well enough to know he wouldn't. The cool air made her shiver but Hadhari's behavior made her shake. She felt Bukua move close and laid her head against his brown mane.

"Did we not teach him enough, or too much?"

Ajia shuddered. "We did our best with Hadhari, my love, with all of them."

Bukua swallowed, though the dryness in his throat made him sick. "It's been bad enough with Hadhari refusing to leave Johari alone about Akanni, now he may do the same with Nasila regarding Rasuli." He closed his eyes as pain gripped his chest.

"Prince Jibade won't let him get a cruel word in. You know how fiercely loyal he is, especially towards Nasila." Ajia nuzzled him gently, trying to comfort. She had never seen her husband so distressed. This was a first for both of them. _Rahimu, how much more can we take?_

The same thought filled Bukua's mind and as hard as he tried to guard himself against it he failed. The idea that he had failed his son in some way or another caused his eyes to mist, small silent tears to fall from his eyes, down his furred cheeks and land on top of his mate's head.

Had he failed Hadhari? If so, was there any hope his son would remember the childlike love he had for Rahimu, the deep rooted love he had for his sisters, the camaraderie for Prince Jibade? Was his son fully lost? Would he ever understand the choice Bukua had made when he first found Dhoruba, when they found Akanni, or like today when Jibade and Nasila found Rasuli, whether the latter stayed or not? Would he always be like this, constantly questioning the motives behind whoever came into the Western Plains next?

Deep down, Bukua knew that the guardianship, _his_ guardianship could not have a member questioning others decisions. Hadhari was posing a great and terrible risk not just to his family but to his duty as well. In sadness Bukua found himself missing his brothers Ulan and Kato, who, though second and third born respectively, were wise and deeply rooted in their positions as guardians in King Taraji's pride to the east of the Western Plains. He wished they were here now. Hadhari had loved pretending to play fight with them when he was a cub.

Just then Bukua had an idea, but he couldn't share it with anyone, not even Ajia. Just the little bit that came… Yes! It was perfect. He silently prayed about the matter and pulled away from Ajia, looked into her eyes and brought his face down to hers; nuzzling her with the same love that never failed to sustain him and remind him that he was the kind of lion who would do anything for his family and his kingdom.

The air was getting colder. He shivered a little and spoke. "We should head in."

Surprised but always happy at even the smallest display of affection, she nodded in silent agreement. As they walked into the den to their spot Ajia knew she didn't need to ask the question that wandered through both their minds. Wherever Nasila was, she was alright. Prince Jibade would look out for her. Just like with Akanni and their second daughter, they trusted the future King with their eldest.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Jibade was glad that he knew Nasila's scent as well as he knew the scents of his parents, sister and his own. He had been running for what felt like forever, but his search led him to where he needed to be, to where she was. He found her hunched over a waterhole with her head hung low, dark streaks on her face. She had been crying, not that he could blame her though he had been surprised at the strength she had mustered not to raise a claw against Hadhari during their argument. His own strength not to do the same still amazed him, but it proved that he and Nasila were different than her overly cautious, bitter sibling.

They knew when to strike in defense of themselves or others and never dared to hit someone just to prove a point. But Hadhari needed a good cuffing. His recent behavior infuriated Jibade to the point where he just hated the other lion being around either him, Nasila or their entire group.

As much as he wanted to ask Mpenzi what she thought about Hadhari he knew what her response would be: the same as his and the last thing he wanted to do was have her burdened. Helping the lionesses' plan the hunts seemed to take up all her time and energy these days and he refused pull her away from it to satisfy his curiosity. He knew it was her job and that she loved it very much. She finally had her thing, her way of contributing and helping their pride. He also knew that if she had any thoughts that she wanted to share with him and him alone she would do. But not now, if ever, and that was fine with him. Unlike Hadhari, he respected his sister and her privacy.

The cold air chilled him to the bone and he shook his mane, approaching Nasila as quietly as he could. She hadn't moved. Had she smelled his scent at all? "Nasila?" he began, speaking her name in a concerned, gentle. He saw her flinch and slight anger, again directed at Hadhari, rose inside him.

"It's getting harder," she said, her tone pained and clipped.

Jibade moved to sit beside her, nodding at her words, knowing what she meant. His understanding caused his heart to fall. Hadhari was not his brother by blood but he loved him as such. _Or I used to,_ he thought, his heart sinking at the way his friend's behavior was affecting the lioness he loved. _I can't imagine what it's like for you…_ He wasn't sure what to say, or if his words would even provide some calm and peace so he said nothing.

Whether it was the chill of Hadhari's words or the chill in the air, Nasila moved closer to Jibade, seeking his warmth and laid her head against his maned covered shoulder. "I should have prepared myself for what he would say. I should have known better. The way he's been acting, I should have known he wouldn't take well to another lion's presence."

"Nasila, you mustn't blame yourself for his reaction," Jibade said in a quiet voice. He was glad she couldn't see the sudden hardness in his eyes, or know what he was thinking. He swallowed as the words nearly stuck in his throat. "You did all you could. The burdens are on him." _And they will get too heavy to carry._

The lioness's ears flickered, her mouth sad. "I miss the way Hadhari was when we were all cubs." At the end of the sentence a small sob worked its way up.

He knew what she was talking about, the days of their cubhood, when all was right with them and their families. Things were so much simpler then. Now they were all faced with reality, of their own morality and mortality, of what it meant to be members of the pride and the long standing legacy they were each born into. Jibade shuddered not from the cold air but a heavy realization. If anyone of them, those in his generation, was meant to feel conflicted and rebel against what they had been taught – _It's me… or Mpenzi, or maybe both of us. Not Hadhari… why him?_ His eyes moved to the skies, searching for something and nothing. _Mpenzi and I have a double heritage. Mother was raised in a good, kind pride while Father was raised in a pride run by a dominant King who wanted Father to be like him. Mpenzi and I should be different but we're not. It should be me instead of Hadhari…_ Jibade closed his eyes, silently praying in thankfulness that it wasn't him and in regret that it was a lion he'd known since cubhood.

"Yes," he heard himself say. "I miss the way he was back then too." He blinked once, flexed on paw, then the other and continued. "Nasila, I know he's your brother and you love him, but none of us can change the way he is. He has… chosen to be like this."

The cold air made Nasila shake. Her shoulders shrugged. "He won't hurt Akanni or Rasuli. He wouldn't risk Father's discipline and anger."

"Something went on between them today. I could see it when they came home."

"They talked for much of the day. Father told him in no uncertain terms that his behavior is unacceptable." She paused and shut her eyes tightly, frustration evident in her voice. "Hadhari firmly believes he's doing nothing wrong, that he's only acting to protect us. I wish I could believe him…"

Jibade gently nuzzled her, resting his head atop her own. "We can't change how he acts, Nasila. What we can do is make sure he doesn't do anything to Rasuli. How we do that is to keep watch over both of them."

Her only reply was silence.

"If I scared you earlier I am sorry. I didn't mean to." It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Hadhari had all but forced him to show a side of himself he didn't know he had.

She sighed against him. "I know."

"After you left… I didn't hurt him, though part of me wanted to."

Her eyes stung. "I know the feeling. So does my father." She flexed her paws, no longer feeling the cold air. She was numb.

"Nasila, it's late and we should return to the caves." With reluctance he pulled away and seeing her look like a wounded cub made him angrier with Hadhari, who was either unaware of his actions or was aware and simply did not care.

The creamy tawny brown lioness slipped her head underneath Jibade's chin, purring quietly in the hopes of easing the pain she'd been feeling since her 'talk' with Hadhari. Did her brother care about her feelings, or anyone's besides his own? "Thank you for finding me."

With a sad smile she couldn't see Jibade said, "You're welcome. After that… I had to, needed to."

In silence they took long drinks from the waterhole and started a walk to caves which quickly turned into a short race to lift their spirits and warm their bodies. Upon entering the den, they saw that Rasuli had chosen for himself a secluded spot just near the entrance as far from the pride as possible without attempting to appear rude. They moved around the sleeping lionesses and stopped, giving each other a smile and whispered, 'I love you' before parting to sleep among their respective families.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Rasuli knew he had to move as fast as possible, but he also knew that he had to time everything perfectly and take it all with one step after another. He ran through the possibilities of his next move in his mind and when no other solution presented itself the only thing he could do was go with his original intention.

After King Dhoruba and Queen Kesha allowed him to stay with their pride he spent the following day wandering the lands, not surprised by the lack of offered company. He really didn't want it. He had been alone so long solitude was his best friend, which was why he separated himself from everyone during meal time the day before. He was pleased no one had decided to come to him then with intention to make small talk. Maybe they didn't trust him; he was a stranger after all. Or maybe it was something else, but that didn't bother him either.

He wasn't here to be friends with anyone in the pride, especially if he was only going to be around for a few days. _Why become friends with any of them if you know you're never going to see them again?_ He knew life was fragile, had seen the evidence of it with his own eyes, while also knowing the disappointment others suffered at the paws or hands of others. It was for those reasons he vowed to never get too close to anyone he helped. He did his job well and he would make sure this one was a success. It had to be. So much depended on how he acted next.

The day after his unofficial acceptance, his time alone presented the perfect opportunity to mentally work out his plan. He prayed on it and took a nap in the shade of a tree, muttering softly to himself. The only time he got up was to drink from the nearby small pond of water. When his stomach growled with hunger he ignored the pain and discomfort, telling himself it would be better to not eat with so much on his mind.

"If I hunt I'll lose my train of thought, and I cannot risk that," he told himself, glad that no one, neither lion nor any other kind of animal, especially the kind that ate grass, was around to hear him speak.

_It would surely arouse suspicion as to why I'm here, especially if Prince Jibade had come,_ he thought. No, he was very glad the royal lion was nowhere to be seen. Rasuli admired the young heir and after looking at him and his friends the day before he knew the Prince had enough to worry about and did not need to have his action of taking a strange lion to his parents turn out to be a mistake. It would, without a doubt, undermine Rasuli's intended task and if he made even one mistake everything would be jeopardized. He couldn't let that happen and most certainly wouldn't put Prince Jibade in a position of mistrust.

From what he saw of the Prince's group he was already being tested by the lioness guardian Nasila's brother. If something was happening among the gathered three males and three females he wouldn't get involved. Part of him wanted to see if he could help the young lion and lioness who had so graciously helped him, but that too would put his task at risk. Any action on his part, no matter how good the intentions, could have far reaching consequences.

For all his control he couldn't shake the feeling that something was disturbing the six grown felines and it was close to reaching a point that would change all of them, and he was unsure whether their respective parents, the King and Queen, and the older guardians were aware.

It's not your concern, he reminded himself. If there was something about his job that he hated it was not getting close enough to help those who clearly, if not desperately, needed it.

Matters like these were what he prayed about the most. But he never received an answer, not even the one he was searching for and it frustrated him so much that a number of times he wanted to just say 'I quit'. Then that same statement would come back, never leave him alone, and physically manifest itself when he dreamed at night.

_No one else can do what you do. It's why I made you._

After that he would wake and press on with his task, complete it as fast as he could without becoming compromised in any way and move on to the next job. Even as he observed Prince Jibade and his comrades he did the same to the King and Queen. There was strife between them, but he could see none in the Queen herself. For all he knew she was hiding it deep down. The strife he could see existed within the King and it was weighing him down, but Rasuli was the type of lion to know when more than one animal was almost drowning in either strife, something different, or far worse.

He had noticed the same thing with the red maned lion that lay near the lioness he presumed to be Nasila's sister. Something was going on between him and the King, and Rasuli didn't need a worded explanation to know that their strife was both very much the same and different. He just had to get if not both then at least one of them to admit what was wrong, if anything at all. He did not know the red maned lion but he would soon.

By the time he realized it the sun was preparing to sink. He rose, shook his mane, stretched his legs, and ran for the Western Plains pride keep. He hoped once he got there he would be able to get a piece of the carcass, provided the hunting party went out again. He wasn't sure if they had or not, though it didn't matter. If he received King Dhoruba's permission he could hunt a small catch for himself, or just not eat. There was a time he'd gone a couple of days without food and another time when he went without for much longer. He was a survivor and did not live on the meat of animals alone. No, something else sustained him and that something else had given him the strength he needed to come here and be found by Prince Jibade and the lioness Nasila.

When he arrived at the caves he looked for King Dhoruba and his mate, silently bowing his head to them. They returned the gestures with easy smiles. He knew they would. He had given them his word that he meant no harm, which was true. He wasn't surprised when their son came up to him, dipping his own head in greeting. He did the same and allowed the royal lion to walk beside him to the carcasses as he had done the previous evening.

"I hope your day was well Rasuli, and that no one bothered you," said Jibade, his eyes hardening a little when he finished.

Rasuli offered him a reassuring stare and smile. "No, your highness, and my day was well and peaceful, thank you. The Western Plains are very beautiful."

Jibade didn't reply to that but his face softened.

Upon reaching the carcasses Rasuli tore a piece and settled in a place both close and far the pride but he was still able to see everyone, including Prince Jibade's group, the guardians, and the King and Queen. He had no idea if anyone was looking at him with suspicious eyes, except maybe Nasila's brother. If he was, Rasuli told himself not to worry. Whether the guardian's problem was him or the red maned lion, Rasuli firmly believed it would be dealt with.

_Last thing I need is to be here when that happens,_ he thought to himself as he sank his teeth deeply down into the meat in his paws.

Taking a second bite he looked at the red maned lion and the King, his mind made up. He would speak with King Dhoruba as soon as possible, preferably alone and hoped he could do the same with the other male, either alone or in the King's presence.

It didn't matter how but he would get that part of his job done and keep going.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The last time King Dhoruba woke before his wife and son and daughter he had no idea that doing so would lead to him telling those closest to him and a red maned lion that he committed a crime so heinous no other kingdom would have dared tolerate him.

But the lands he ruled were not ordinary and the pride he served and protected was much the same. After he spilled the truth of his past and expected everyone to storm off in anger like Akanni did he had silently prayed that Rahimu would enact his righteous wrath and judgment, expel him from the Western Plains, and kill him where he lay. But none of that happened. No one other than Akanni left and no sign of wrath from the Lord Creator came down upon him. He still lived to see the rest of that day and every day after.

He endured the gentle words of the guardian Bukua, his friend, and the incredible love of his son and daughter. He saw Bukua's mate and their daughters bow their heads in silent acknowledgement that no matter his past he was still their King and they would continue serving him.

When everyone left he prepared himself for Kesha's rebuke, which never came. Even now he couldn't understand that and he had no idea how to tell her he didn't. He expected the worst, not forgiveness and devotion.

If there was one thing he did understand it was Akanni's well-deserved anger against him. He had wronged the young lion when he was just a cub, had taken the only parent Akanni had ever known and his friends, of course he was upset and filled with rage. Part of him wanted to apologize for what he had done but another told him to accept the anger and let it go. He would let Akanni come to him, if he ever did. It was just a matter of waiting and being patient, something his father never taught him.

But Amri had. The late King had been a father figure to Dhoruba and he would be grateful to the long dead ruler until his own dying day, though he was slightly fearful at what Amri would think about recent events in the Western Plains were he still alive.

If anything about his confession pleased Dhoruba it was that he'd had no nightmares. Deep down he knew that confessing did not mean the nightmares would just go away. There were times he feared to sleep but when he had three nights of peace without any dreams he looked forward to sleeping beside Kesha with the knowledge and hope that no nightmare would disturb his much rest.

Now that he was awake he wondered if he should go out and sit on the stone ledge, or take a drink from one of the waterholes not far from the caves. Each idea was tempting but the possibility of the last time he had done so filled his mind, made him rethink. His right eye fell on Kesha and he couldn't resist allowing his head to turn completely to her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, always was and he wished he could sleep in the manner he'd been able to for the last few days.

He wanted such sleep to be constant. He wanted to dream without fear, wanted peace filled rest like that of his wife and son and daughter, like the rest of his pride, including Akanni, if the younger lion wasn't as haunted by the past. He had to wonder that, aside from anger, if Akanni remembered anyone from their old pride. If he dreamed at all were they of his time with Shabihi, the lioness who became his second mother after his real one was slaughtered by Dhoruba himself?

If Akanni dreamed of the lioness who had loved him so much that she risked her life to save his that day so much the better. He wished no ill for the red maned male. He had suffered enough as it was and there was only so much an animal could take before it became too much and something happened. Dhoruba wanted peace and he wanted it for Akanni as well, never mind the other's animosity. Amri had taught him that and much more, it was only fair that he put it into practice.

In the darkness of the royal chamber where his family slept, he silently admitted to wanting some way for him and Akanni to resolve the past and see if there was room for growth, maybe even acquaintanceship or friendship in the future. He had never wanted to be the kind of lion who could kill an entire pride; his father left him no other way to make sure he did not follow the same dangerous path.

Dhoruba shrugged and gently nuzzled Kesha, hoping the gesture did not wake her. If anyone needed extra sleep it was her. She had been doing so much for him that if he ever saw the need to repay her it would take him the rest of his life. He knew she was doing it not only because she was her father's daughter but because she loved him. And it pained him. He loved her just as much and he wondered if he could ever do the same, whether she asked or not. Some things brought them together but other things separated them too. Was there middle ground or was the love they bore for each other enough?

Dhoruba shook his head, softly kissed her cheek with his tongue, got to his feet and left the chamber as quietly as possible. The rest of the pride was asleep but he knew it wouldn't be long until Bukua gathered his guardian family together and they would set off on patrol.

Jibade would either be with them or join his mother. Dhoruba couldn't be more pleased or proud of his son and heir. He was also proud of his daughter, who from what Kesha told him was leading the lionesses on the hunting party so well that she reminded them of Kesha's mother the late Queen Malkia. Dhoruba loved his children as much as any true father could and made a promise when they were born to not treat them the way his father had treated him. He told himself that he would rather die than follow in his father's pawprints by any means. He silently prayed with thankfulness that his son did not have to suffer an uncertain future the way he had, that both Jibade and Mpenzi were able to grow and live in peace. They had far more than he ever did growing up and he envied them a little. But he was their father and by watching them grow in peaceful lands under peaceful rulers he too had done the same. He had been given a second chance through his children and his heart pounded in a gratefulness he could never voice.

When he stepped out of the main den, it was still early dawn. The sun wouldn't rise for a little while yet. He stopped, stretched his body, his fore and back legs, shook his mane and went down to the same waterhole where his blood stained past had finally caught up with him. On numb legs he approached and bent his head downward to drink, suddenly weary, thinking that Akanni had stealthily followed him. He raised his head, water dripping from his chin and whiskers and looked around. There was no one. No Akanni.

An ear flickered and he took another long drink, savoring the coolness and inner peace it brought. The soft chirps of the birds helped to slow the sudden pounding of his heart. He told himself to take a slow breath and relax. This was his and Kesha's realm. Everything was as it should be.

_Thank you, Rahimu,_ he thought, bringing his head back up again while running his tongue along his maw, catching droplets of water that ran down his whiskers with his tongue. Even in early dawn light the majesty of the Western Plains never ceased to amaze him or make him just stop and stare at how every tree, rock and waterhole were in their proper places.

"Good morning, King Dhoruba," said a voice.

He turned to see the long, skinny form of Rasuli make his way to the waterhole. He stood a few paces away from and as the rogue lowered his head down to drink Dhoruba wondered if he looked the way Rasuli did now when he first came to the Western Plains. A wry smile crossed his features. Kesha would give a slightly surprising but well known answer to that question. He waited until the other lion raised his head before answering. Rasuli did.

"Morning to you, as well," he replied, dipping his head a little.

"Would you mind if we walked?" Rasuli asked. Before the King could question why, he added, "I have found that walking for a while renews the strength in my legs." He shrugged a little, turning his head to the side. "After all I've been through and so as not to impose on your pride and family anymore than I already have, I need to gain as much strength as possible so I can move on."

Dhoruba understood the lion's motives all too well. "Yes, of course. Um, follow me." He started walking in no specific direction. He knew the Western Plains well enough he could walk them in his sleep.

For a time the two lions were silent and Dhoruba began to feel unnerved by the strange male at his side. With each step he took his legs felt heavy, like large rocks had been placed on them, preventing him from feeling or moving. Soon he couldn't move at all. He was stuck in place. Rasuli kept on walking. He tried to speak but no words formed. His eyes widened and he felt as though he was going to panic. He wanted to, but could he? Why couldn't he move? What was wrong with him? His eyes darted in all directions. He looked up at the sky. Everything was the same from what he could tell, but was the early light changing? Were there any animals around, birds in the trees?

Was Akanni around? Had he left his chamber, the main den and was hiding somewhere? Were he and this Rasuli in some sort of made up plan to… No, he chided himself. That's not possible. Akanni and Rasuli don't even know each other! Do they? The two lions were rogues, both of them had been found by members of his pride, and had been accepted into the pride by him. What was going on?

After what seemed like forever, Rasuli spoke, his voice slow and firm. "Don't be afraid, Prince Dhoruba."

The dark brown lion's light gray colored eyes snapped. His lips lifted. Was he growling? If he was, he couldn't hear it, like he had somehow in the midst of not being able to move lost his hearing too. "I'm…" No. He heard himself say that. "I was a Prince but no longer. Then again, given my current state you know that. I'm the King of the Western Plains, mate of the Queen, father of the Prince and Princess. I –"

"Yes. You were a Prince, the only son of a King called Abasi and a lioness named Ruhusa, his Queen." Rasuli had turned to face him now. Their eyes held.

Dhoruba's heart pounded in his chest so hard and painfully he thought it was going to bust out. How did…? His lower jaw trembled. "T-those…" He swallowed, his emotions rising and falling simultaneously. "Those are my parents' names." He wanted to look away from the lion's orange eyes but found he couldn't. His own gray eyes remained transfixed upon this much older male's orange orbs.

"Yes they are and you were their only son and heir."

"W-we've never met before!" Dhoruba shouted. "How do you know who I am?"

"I could tell you that I'm one of those lions' who sees something once and never forgets. But I won't, even if it is true." Rasuli shook his mane once and continued while shifting his near dead weight from one paw to the other. "King Abasi was a cruel lion, wasn't he? He ruled the lands Rahimu gave him with a paw of tyranny. But Abasi learned it from his own father, didn't he? The hatred we teach our children we learn from our parents. But who really teaches us to hate? Who influences us to treat others so carelessly?"

The question stunned Dhoruba, near sending him to the grass on his haunches. Did the atmosphere suddenly turn blazing hot, like he had sat in the sun too long? "I… I don't know! Will you tell me how you know of my parentage?"

At that Rasuli actually chuckled and shook his head almost amusedly. Sensing that the King wanted to run up, pin him to the ground on his back and growl so low into his face that he could almost rip his nose off he continued. "I've lived a long time, Dhoruba. Long enough to see some kingdoms rise and fall, to see the heirs or heiresses of those kingdoms lose themselves under the cruelty of their parents. But you… no, you're different. You took action."

Dhoruba snarled, his eyes flashing with anger. His teeth were bared. "You have no idea what I've done!"

Rasuli chuckled again. "Oh, I know, Dhoruba, more than you think." He moved, walking around the still in place King. "I know that your father was cruel to you. He beat you, even when you did something right. I also know that your mother wanted to protect you but didn't want to risk angering her mate. The lionesses of the pride were the same way; a few of them had cubs to protect."

"I was pretty much abandoned and they –"

"Had to know what it felt like." It wasn't a question. "You killed your father because you were afraid of becoming like him. He was training you for the day or time when you would."

Dhoruba shut his eyes, the air around him suddenly still. "I… I had no other choice."

"That's true, but you could have stopped there. Instead you went after your mother, then the lionesses and the cubs." Rasuli stopped and faced the King one more time. The sun was coming up and the encroaching light shone on the lion's body, illuminating him in its glow as though he had come from it.

"Yes, I did and don't say the taste of blood can make us lose control and thirsty for more. I've already heard that."

Rasuli eyed him, his features narrowing. "Then here's a question: Do you believe it's true?"

"I began a killing spree after tasting my own father's blood, what do you think?" The King shook his head, exasperated. "You still never answered my question. How do you know about me and what I did? How do you know any of it?" Silently, inwardly, he admitted that he was afraid to know the response.

"That's two questions, and before you ask, yes, I will provide an answer."

"Then do it!" Dhoruba snapped impatiently. The sun's warm light did little to dull the chill he felt on the inside of his body.

"I watched over the kingdom you were born and raised in. I believe I came upon it when your grandfather was ruling. He was a tyrant, had thought that every animal in the lands was there to pay homage to him and him alone, the lionesses were his servants only to obey him and no other and if they so dare try to leave or not do what he wanted they'd pay a high price, either their lives or the life of a cub. The cubs they had were his, of course. Your grandfather wouldn't let the lionesses find rogues to mate with; it was him and him only. Your father, however, didn't believe in inbreeding so he allowed the pridal lionesses to mate with rogues if they wanted." For the first time, the desert colored lion threw his head to the side. "How kind of him," he muttered in a slightly sarcastic voice. "Not that I blame the lionesses for going with rogues. Better that way, really."

It never occurred to Dhoruba that Akanni, a lion who was born into the same pride as he, could be related to him in some way. The light gold tanned lion never appeared to bear any resemblance to his family line. It was apparent he took after his rogue father's side, but his mother... He and Akanni were so different both in attitude, color, markings and builds. In spite of this revelation he found it didn't matter. After all Akanni was old enough to be his son! He wanted to speak, but what could he say?

"When your grandfather died and your father was declared the new King I knew things would only get worse. One tyrant died only to have another take his place. I assumed the same thing everyone else did: When your father passed, the cycle would continue in you. But you surprised the lands, the animals, and even the lionesses as you slaughtered them where they either lay or stood. You did what I'm sure they all thought impossible. You found another way and it was through the shedding of innocent and not so innocent blood. Well done!"

Dhoruba sneered. "Are you mocking me," he asked in a dangerous hiss. He felt himself shake.

At that, Rasuli's face hardened. "No, I'm not. During your grandfather and father's reign I stayed on the borders, doesn't matter which one."

"You managed to do that for a long time and never got caught?" Unable to believe it, Dhoruba shook his head.

"Oh your grandfather saw me a few times and chased me off, your father too. I saw him now and again while he patrolled everything he thought was supposedly his. He gave that call that every King gives, but he never chased me away completely. I still kept watch. Saw you sometimes too. You have your father and grandfather's coloring. Even as a cub you tried so hard to be different from them. I'd say you succeeded."

"You can say that after what I did?"

Rasuli nodded. "Yes, I can. Look at how far you've come."

"So everyone keeps telling me." Dhoruba turned to look at the sky, but the beauty of it couldn't distract him from this conversation he was having and wishing it were over. He hated to think there was more to it. "We never really met when I was a Prince. How is it that after so many years you recognize me?"

"Like I said, I'm the kind of lion who remembers and never forgets."

"Then you must have met plenty of animals in your travels."

"I have and believe it or not I've spent a few years searching for you."

At that, Dhoruba's eyes met Rasuli's again. Astonishment, amaze, shock and suspicion filled his face. "You're right. I don't believe it." His front claws unsheathed, readying himself for a fight if need be. The other lion had only been here for a few days, not long enough for him to fully regain his lost strength. Dhoruba could take him easily. "Why?" he asked, the question already leaving his lips before he realized he had said it. Whatever Rasuli's response it made him fearful.

"You killed your parents, the members of your pride both young and old, you wandered, struggled with your own identity and found a new life here. But still your past managed to follow you and haunt you. Deep down, Dhoruba, you know you can never really, fully, and completely enjoy the peace and happiness you have in the Western Plains, as its King, or as a father and husband until you have dealt with your past once and for all."

Dhoruba was about to speak, then closed his mouth, silent.

"Remembering what you did will not bring you peace. You have to deal with it, let it out, and then let it go."

"You talk as though you know what it's like!"

Rasuli shook his head. "No, I don't, but I do know from the others I've helped over time."

"Of course there are others! Glad to know it's not just me."

"The kind of cubhood you endured happens all the time, more often than it should." For a moment his ears tipped back. _This is not the way it was meant to be!_

Dhoruba swallowed and managed to regain the feeling in his legs. He sat on his haunches, exhausted and bowed his head, his mane weighing him down, clinging. Then he lay down and looked up at the other lion. "So you've searched for me and now you have found me. What's next?"

Rasuli turned away, his eyes on the horizon, thinking. _This is it. You've brought me to this moment now help me see it the rest of the way._ "You've been battling with your past long before you came here. It's time to lay it to rest forever." His ears flickered and he shut his eyes to wait.

The King laid one paw atop the other, his tail switching in anticipation and fear. "How?" he asked, the answer more terrifying than the question itself.

"If you will let me, I can take you to the land of your birth. Only there will you find the peace you've been seeking and wanting."

Emotion filled Dhoruba's body while his eyes misted and narrowed at the thought of returning to where his torment started. Questions ran like stampeding antelope through his mind. Didn't he want peace? Didn't he want to never dream of what he had done? Didn't he want to no longer be haunted by those he killed? Didn't he want to find common, treading ground with Akanni, who, thanks to him, was in the exact same situation? Didn't he just want to forget and spend the rest of his days with Kesha, watch Jibade and Mpenzi grow more in their adult lives and become the kind of lion and lioness he'd always wanted them to be, to see Jibade and Nasila's coronation ceremony, perhaps a grandcub or two before the sun sets on his life? Didn't he also want to pass with Kesha the way Amri and Malkia had, together, in sleep, surrounded by their family after living a long, full and complete life?

Dhoruba shut his eyes at the questions and the feelings they produced. Was Rasuli right? "Is there an –" He knew the answer, shook himself, then stared into the other lion's orange eyes. "Well, before I give you answer I'll need to speak to Kesha."

Rasuli gave an understanding nod. "Yes, of course, she is your mate and deserves to know of any plans you make." He looked up at the sky, breathing in the air, shuffling one forepaw, then the other before saying, "Also, there's one more thing."

"What's that?"

"The red maned lion, Akanni, I believe his name is?"

"Yes, what about him," Dhoruba asked.

"I know he's from the same pride you are. There weren't very many cubs there with his color, either. I'm glad to see you didn't kill him, but I imagine there's a story behind that. Bottom line is you need to find peace and so does he."

"You're saying…"

"Akanni has to go with us."

Dhoruba stared at him as if he said "You're in a nightmare and the only to escape is to find out what's going on." Yeah, he might as well have said that! Akanni… _What's he going to think of this? He doesn't want to be anywhere near me, and I don't blame him. How do I convince him… does Rasuli?_ Dhoruba closed his eyes, braced himself, opened his eyes to stare at Rasuli and gave the old lion a firm but reluctant nod.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"_A guardian has a duty to the lands of his birth, to any land he is called to serve, and to any King who gives him or her orders. But, if a King gives you an order that conflicts with your morale you are in every way correct to put your morality above the King. Just because we serve a ruler who can bleed like us doesn't mean he has our best interests at heart. We serve mortal Kings but we also serve the King who reigns above any ruler alive. It is He who shows us the way to live, He directs us and He has our best interests at the forefront of His mind. He cares about us, about what happens to us, so if the King you serve in this life gives you an order that goes against your morale that order goes against Rahimu too. Put Rahimu first in your life before anyone else and you will get through any situation good or bad. Remember that, my sons. It is Rahimu who sustains all life, including the lives of kingdom guardians."_

Bukua wasn't the kind of lion to sleep late. He was either up before the sun rose or was up as the sun was rising. In either of those times he assembled his guardians, always. He never went out before making sure everyone had their places to patrol. He rarely patrolled alone, either with his mate, son, or one of his daughters. When Ulan and Kato were around he would patrol with one of them, as did Ajia, even when their respective parents still lived.

So much had changed in his life and that of his family's he wasn't sure which change frightened him the most. King Dhoruba's past and his actions as a result Bukua could live with. He knew no one was perfect, including his friend the late King Amri. He knew everyone had a past either good or bad, and that actions either good or bad had consequences. If Dhoruba were any other lion, not his King, he would have chased the deep dark brown colored lion out of the Western Plains without a moment's hesitation or second thought. He believed Dhoruba had more than made up for what he did to his old pride. No, everything Dhoruba did in his past and since then he could live with.

What he couldn't live with was his son's near self-destruct like behavior and something had to be done about that. Talking, listening and watching Hadhari drained him in every way possible and he knew Ajia and their girls weren't faring much better. When he stepped out of the main den he was surprised to see the morning light had come. For all he knew the sun was high in the sky by now.

He shook his mane and stretched. He didn't feel like patrolling. Hadhari was still at the front of his mind and if he didn't do something about it soon he never would, or he would wait too late and something would happen. Either way he couldn't risk either of the two scenarios. As he looked around the forms of two lions he knew well caught his eye. He stared but made no move to go near them. His King and Queen appeared to be in adamant conversation. His business could wait and he said a silent prayer, hoping Dhoruba and Kesha would not mind terribly if he took a day off to be with his family. He had a couple of scouts in the cheetah and leopard groups who would go to every corner of the kingdom to find him if he was needed.

Bukua returned to the den, found Ajia and Nasila, asked his eldest daughter to fetch Johari.

"Is everything alright, Bukua?" his mate asked, only to see a deep, sullen look in his light green eyes as he watched Nasila retrieve her sister.

The den's cold atmosphere nearly made him forget. "Ajia, I… I have an idea about what to do for Hadhari, but I need yours, Nasila, and Johari's opinion." His jaw was set, determined. When he saw Ajia nod her head he could only hope she and their daughters agreed with him once they heard.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Kesha knew that for a lioness of her seven seasons her hearing wasn't beginning to fail, but she had to be sure. She stared at her husband in surprise and shock, more shock than surprise. Not trusting her paws to keep her up she sat in the grass, her head hung a little, her ears pinned back. Her fur shone in the morning light but she paid no attention. She heard everything Dhoruba had said about his early morning conversation with Rasuli, but she just couldn't wrap her mind around it. How is that the lion her son and his future mate found a few days ago be a lion who knew about – The Queen closed her eyes, not wanting to take this new revelation in but knowing she had to for her husband's sake.

"Rasuli said he lived on the borders for a long time. He didn't want the kingdom, he was only observing, said he even saw me a couple of times when I was patrolling with my father. If I ever saw him I don't remember. After I…" Dhoruba paused, still finding it hard to express what he did in the presence of his beloved mate. He had caused her so much pain and her response to it all was something he simply could not fathom.

For three in-a-half years of his life he endured brutality at the paws of his father and part love, part regret and almost full neglect from his mother. He had never known the love of anyone until he fell upon the Western Plains borders. Seeing it in action for the sake of others was one thing, but for himself was another. It was personal, something he had yet to accept and he wasn't sure if he ever could.

He waited and when Kesha didn't speak he continued. "After I did what I did and left the lands word was quick to spread. I guess Rasuli overheard the stories of any herbivore or carnivore animal, or their survived family members of my actions and pieced it altogether." He blinked, feeling his eyes mist and looked away, his mane shielding the side of his face so Kesha couldn't see the hurt that lingered. "My father… his behavior was no secret, even outside the kingdom."

"So… Rasuli's been looking for you all this time just so he can take you back to the land of your birth? So you can find peace?" On the inside she loved the idea of her mate being able to put his painful past to rest. It was like an answer to a prayer she didn't know she'd uttered verbally or silently. How he felt about it gave her cause for concern, which she kept to herself.

The question made Dhoruba shrug. "That's what Rasuli says. Not sure I believe him, but…" He paused, thinking, and turned his face to Kesha's, their eyes meeting. His next words were laced with sheer honesty. "Kesha, I think I want to find peace. I want to be able to sleep without dreaming of my father or what I did. The way I am, have been, I'm surprised that I have been able to keep the Western Plains in such good standing, that I haven't given Bukua and his family too much to do and not enough time with one another." He noticed she was about to say something and continued before she could. "I know Bukua is guard leader, but I am his sovereign, as are you, and I could make him change things up. Not that I would, but you know what I mean."

She nodded at that.

"Then there are you, Jibade, and Mpenzi. All of this…" He shook his head in emotional exhaustion. "This cannot be easy for any of you, no matter how many times you say you love me and forgive me. Deep down, I know you're struggling with this, especially you, Kesha." He swallowed. His throat was thick. "I'm your mate, your partner and the father of your children. When we married you pledged your whole heart and life to me. You committed yourself to me; never mind what we would face in the future. I tell you that I killed my parents, nearly every member of the pride I was born into, and you say you don't condone it and love me anyway."

"I do," she said in a strong, passionate voice.

Her eyes reflected the truth of her words and it hurt Dhoruba to hear them, much less match her stare for stare. "Kesha… if I do this, not only will it give me peace but it will do the same for you, Jibade and Mpenzi. You three are more deserving than I."

"So are you."

He cringed a little at that, glad she didn't notice. "Would it upset you if I left with Rasuli? I know he won't hurt me. I'll be safe with him, but I just –" All words failed when he sensed Kesha move up quickly towards him and laid her head against his. He could feel her bury her face in the softness of his mane. Her touch almost made him want to pull away but he had come to rely on her physical presence as much as the words that came from her mouth. In the way she spoke she sounded so much like Amri it was almost chilling. He wrapped his head around her neck, nuzzling her there with his chin.

Kesha closed her eyes. "You need to do this, Dhoruba. I want you to find peace from the past, and if you're worried about leaving me, don't." She waited, then, "I'm going with you."

His eyes widened and once again words failed him. No. She couldn't mean that. She had never been outside of the Western Plains except to see her brother marry and become a King, but that was going to another kingdom not far from theirs. This… Such a journey would take days if not a few moons! He wondered if he could endure such a long separation from her. They had always been together ever since he joined the pride. Maybe if she went…

Other thoughts made their presence known. What if something happened to her along the way, or to him or Rasuli? Both he, Rasuli and Akanni knew the dangers that existed outside of a kingdom. Kesha didn't and while she was a hunter she was no fighter. They would encounter rogues and coalitions of rogues, or even small prides that had no kingdom. Outside the lands ruled by a King anything could happen. Nothing was guaranteed, not even your life or the life of another.

His emotions went up and down. Yes, he wanted her to go with him but he didn't want to lose her either. She would be safer here but he also knew she would worry about him while he was away. Confusion filled him and he sighed with great pain. Did she hear it? _Amri, I hope you understand…_ "Kesha, if you're certain –"

She pulled away and looked at him with eyes so warm he thought he would drown in their depths. His heart swelled with the love she continuously bore and never ceased to show him. He shifted his weight from one paw to the other in anticipation and fear.

Kesha smiled. "I am," she said and nuzzled him again.

They stayed like that for a time, not caring if anyone was watching until Dhoruba, softly sighing, told her what Rasuli said about Akanni. Naturally, she was surprised but kept it to herself. "He thinks Akanni can find peace too. What I put him through… he needs closure from this as much as me. He doesn't know about any of this and I don't know how I'm going to tell him." Suddenly he felt sick from being in the sun's light too long. Pain gripped his stomach. "Akanni won't want to be within a paw step of me, even when Rasuli explains everything."

Kesha didn't nod or reply, but she understood. The red maned lion carried so much anger in him it amazed her that the anger didn't come off the lion as if he were soaked in it. Then she said, "You get Rasuli and I'll bring Akanni to you both. He might be more lenient to follow a request from the Queen."

Dhoruba couldn't argue with that. It was worth a try and unless the redmaned lion wanted to keep suffering on the inside and somehow wind up jeopardizing his relationship with Johari he had to hear Rasuli out, realize the old lion was right and follow him along with Dhoruba to where they were both born and where their lives had so dramatically changed for the worse and for the better.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Akanni knew something was wrong when she wouldn't look directly at him. He spoke carefully, not wanting to demand outright what was wrong, which he wouldn't. He wasn't that kind of lion and only one other lioness knew it, but she was dead. He shrugged off the thought of Shabihi and the impact she'd had on his life and stared at the lioness in front of him, his eyes concerned but caring. She couldn't rub him the wrong way even if she tried and just by looking at her he knew something was amiss. She was shifting her weight from one paw to the other in a nervous manner, her whiskers were twitching and her left ear was pinned back.

"Johari, what is it?"

A moment later she spoke. "My father said he wants to meet with me, Mom and Nasila to… to talk about Hadhari." She shook her head, her eyes clouding over. "He has a plan, I know it. Why else would he ask for my sister, my mother and me?"

She started pacing now. Akanni had never seen her so agitated. Usually he was the one pacing and she was the quiet support, only speaking when she absolutely needed to. He allowed her to express her fear and worry over this upcoming family meeting. Part of him wanted to ask if he could join them so as to offer Johari emotional support, just in case her father said something that might upset her. But his group like interactions with Bukua told him that the older guardian was a lion who had seen and done much in his life, a lion who chose to act with care and slight caution, not wanting the second to take over his judgment like his son had. The two lions were very different.

Johari didn't need to tell him what her family and the royal siblings said to the King after he stormed off that day; he knew what they would say and that was one of the things that enraged him, and every day since he questioned the idea of staying here. But the lioness in front of him, Johari, the one creature, aside from Prince Jibade who had so openly accepted him, including Johari's and Jibade's respective sisters… Johari was the one who put herself at risk of losing her brother's trust and love all for a strange, slightly older lion like him. He couldn't understand the way the Western Plains' lions and lionesses could live in such a way. It was as though they had no fear and if they did they found a source of peace and hope in their faith in Rahimu, a reliance on Him instead of themselves.

He admitted it only to himself now, perhaps would tell Johari later when things were less complicated, but he wanted to be like the members of the pride he was part of. He wanted what they have – their confidence, reassurance, bravery and yes, their hope and peace. But he wasn't ready and he knew it.

When he no longer heard Johari, instead only seeing her sit with her head hung so low her nose could nearly touch her paws, he approached and sat beside her, his tail tapping the ground, creating tiny dust clouds. It took a moment for him to speak, but when he did he hoped his words would have the effect that her words had on him. With a swallow he said, "Hadhari is your brother, and I know you don't want anything to happen to him. But…" He blinked, almost uncertain if he should continue. Then, "You must trust that your father, whatever he means to speak with you, your mother and sister about, it's not only in your best interests, his, but Hadhari's too. From what I've seen you all love him, despite his behavior towards me. Your father has seen it I'm sure and appears to be a good judge of character." He moved his head down to hers trying to offer the same comfort she had offered him. "You may not like what your father has to say, but he would not have asked you to come if he didn't think you needed to hear something so important. I think…" He paused, weighing his words carefully. "Don't do it for yourself."

She snapped her head up to his at that, her eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Before she could say anything he added, "Do it for your parents, for Nasila. Whatever happens, whatever your father says, they all need you just as much as you need them. Family is everything." He looked away, his voice hard and almost eerily quiet. "Whether you're many or a few, when you are all so close the very thought of one member dying or another rebelling to the point it's hard for them to be around you it hurts like teeth piercing through furred flesh, breaking the skin and drawing blood." When he looked at her again he saw her shudder and hated himself for making it happen. He tried to nuzzle her, surprised when she laid her head under his chin. "I'm sorry, that was…"

"It's true," Johari said with pain in her voice. "Akanni, we are close, all of us – Jibade, Mpenzi, Nasila, me and Hadhari. For as long as we all can remember it's been the five of us, the only cubs of our generation in the Western Plains. The other lionesses weren't so lucky in having cubs. Some chose not to, others didn't want to ask King Dhoruba when he's so devoted to his mate. My parents only have each other, aside from Father's uncles who help guard the lands where Queen Kesha's brother rules." She sighed and felt a tear roll down her cheek. "Prince Jibade is like my second brother just as Princess Mpenzi is like my second sister. The five of us have always been close, relying on each other and being there for each other. To see one of us, as the shaman Ibada would say, 'Falling to the side' is very painful. I'm afraid of what my father has planned." She shrugged and looked at him and this time their eyes met. "But you're right. I need to hear him out, not just for him, or Mom or Nasila." She licked her lips. "I need to do this for me." Then she nuzzled Akanni, thankful for the words that at first seemed harsh but made the most sense of the relationship she had with her siblings and the royal brother and sister. "I should go now, they're waiting."

He smiled. "I'll keep you in my thoughts." It was all he could say.

She kissed his cheek. "Thanks."

They walked out of his chamber together, parting soon after. He bowed his head to Johari's parents and once he stepped out of the main den Queen Kesha approached. "Good morning, your Majesty," he said as politely as he could.

"Hello Akanni," the Queen replied. "If you don't mind I need you to come with me. It's important."

He stared. "Well… is everything alright? If I have done anything wrong I assure you that –"

Kesha smiled gently. "No, no, of course not, and everything is..." The grass under her paws felt like small sharp rocks. "Well, I think it's best if Rasuli explains it."

The lion made a confused face. "Rasuli, the old lion you and… the King accepted a few days ago?" He wondered if she heard the hesitance at speaking her mate's title instead of his name. "My apologies, my lady, I do not understand. I have never met Rasuli before and don't –"

"As I said, it's best he explains it. Both Rasuli and my mate are waiting for us."

Akanni's eyes narrowed. "With all due respect Queen Kesha… after recent and some time events I want nothing to do with your mate."

She expected that, knew Dhoruba did too. She shook her head. "I know what he did, and while I do not condone it –"

"You might as well since you still have him as your husband."

Kesha knew the redmaned lion had every reason to be angry with Dhoruba and if she were any other lioness she would agree with Akanni. She waited, weighed her options and said, "You don't know Rasuli, none of us do, but you should hear what he has to say."

"And why is that? Like you said, he's a stranger and no one knows him."

She couldn't argue with that. "Akanni… Rasuli has asked to speak with you. You can sit near him, you don't have to be anywhere near Dhoruba. But if you don't do this now, Rasuli will find a way to get whatever he has to say to you another time, maybe sooner than you think. It's best for you, and for Dhoruba, to get this taken care of right now. You have nothing else to do."

Her words left him silent. She was right. With Johari spending the day with her family the only other thing he could do was wander the Western Plains, and he had done that plenty of times already he could walk the lands in his sleep. He looked up at the sky, feeling anxious, worried and hoping he could stand to be in the King's presence long enough to get this done without losing his temper and storming off. The sun was warm, the air was slightly cold, and Queen Kesha looked at him with a desperation that made him feel a small bout of sympathy that he averted his eyes. What she must have been through! He had to admire her strength even if he didn't admire her choice to keep King Dhoruba as her mate.

When he looked at her again he gave a firm nod. "Alright, lead the way."


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Despite the reluctance and strong hesitation he felt about this meeting with an old lion and the King he had every reason to hate, Akanni was glad that it would be in a place in the shade of some large trees with overhung branches and outstretched green.

As with nearly all areas in the Western Plains this one had a waterhole not too far away. Akanni was certain he would need it as refuge, just in case his temper about King Dhoruba's actions got the better of him. He believed it would, knew there was no escaping it no matter how often he thought of Johari and the words he'd spoken to her – The importance that she meet with her family. Wouldn't she say the same to him about this little gathering?

As soon as he saw the two lions he pushed the question out of his mind, but not too far. He kept it near, just to be safe. An invisible smile crossed his face. Johari had said she, her siblings and the royal brother and sister all relied on each other for one thing or another. The same was true for her and him – they relied on the other's words of encouragement and comfort. They were so much alike!

Akanni and Queen Kesha approached the males, and the older one looked up without smiling. "Akanni, glad you could join us," he said.

He didn't even rise to his paws to acknowledge the Queen, and the young lion was surprised when Dhoruba did not rebuke Rasuli for such disrespect. _He's not his father,_ said a voice in his head. Akanni ignored it but part of him, however, believed the words. Then he spoke in a dry voice. "Queen Kesha said you wanted to talk with me?" He looked at Rasuli, avoiding Dhoruba's eyes. His anger would return unabated otherwise.

Rasuli slowly nodded. "Yes, I did. Queen Kesha, if you do not wish to be here, that's fine."

Without speaking the lioness moved to lie down beside her mate. Rasuli did the same. Akanni took his place near the old lion and when he appeared settled though looking slightly uncomfortable in the presence of the King, Rasuli began, explaining it all as best he could. Part of him hoped it would be the last time. The first telling exhausted him; the second telling was for a young lion whose life had been torn apart by the Western Plains ruler, who needed to hear it as much as the King.

Both Akanni and the Queen listened intently.

As Rasuli spoke, Kesha looked at her mate and moved just enough so that their shoulders touched. She watched him, studying his reaction to hearing all of this a second time. On the outside Dhoruba was fully aware of his surroundings, of those around him and of Kesha's silent concern and hope he could withstand this again. His mind was still trying to accept the old lion's words, and everything in him screamed that Rasuli spoke nothing but truth. The only way for him – and Akanni – to resolve their shared past and his blood soaked actions was to return to the place where it all started: where they were both born, where he had been raised and grew up, where Akanni had only spent a very short time of his cubhood.

The dark brown lion tried not to look Akanni's way but it was nearly impossible. He couldn't admit it to the young lion yet but he was sorry for what he had done. Not a day went by when he wasn't, even before he remembered. He wanted to make things right, though it would never bring Akanni's mother back, or any of the others he so ruthlessly murdered. He was also afraid that Akanni would think Rasuli was just some crazy old lion and not go anywhere. If he did that then –

Dhoruba shuddered slightly, felt the air go from warm to cold and to unbearably freezing. Was it just him? Did Kesha feel it too? Was there a breeze blowing? He didn't feel it in his mane or his fur. He looked up at the overhanging branches. The green didn't move, didn't rustle. Everything was still… wasn't it? He couldn't look at Kesha. If she saw a trace of fear in his eyes she would ask he go to Ibada, whom he hadn't seen since he told the shaman his past. To see Ibada now would mean telling him everything that happened since they last saw each other. Dhoruba swallowed and forced himself to look at Akanni. He felt grateful upon seeing that the other lion's eyes were on Rasuli's orange eyes.

"I know this is confusing Akanni, and I don't expect you to believe it."

The redmaned lion's tail tapped at his hindleg. His face hardened and his eyes narrowed. "Then what do you expect?" he softly snarled. "You ask to meet with me and the King, and all you have to say is that you know _everything_ about us? About what he did, not only to me but to his parents and my mother, and everyone we knew there?"

When Rasuli heard this, he could understand Akanni's anger. If it had been him who saw his mother killed in front of him he'd have been angry too. "Akanni," the old lion continued, speaking with a dry gentle voice. "You had a mother who loved you very much, who cared for you, nurtured you, and told you that you were the most important being in her life. She lavished love on you every day until the end, I'm sure."

Akanni's teeth showed. "And how do you know that? You never lived in the pride. You said you lived on the borders so how could you possibly –"

"Because I see a lot of you in her," Rasuli stated with a small, warm smile. "I saw your mother a few times when she hunted, but she never saw me. I know how to keep myself hidden. She was a strong, powerful huntress, and I knew any lioness like that who had cubs they would grow up to be very strong and very healthy. She would give all the love she had to offer to them."

Akanni growled while his front claws slowly started to unsheathe until the tips of them were buried in the grass and dirt. He felt cold on the inside and hot on the outside. His heart beat fiercely in his chest while his eyes flashed in rage. "Don't speak of her… especially with _him_ around!" His eyes moved to Dhoruba then. "Since you lived on the border of my homeland for so long then you surely know what he did. He killed them, all of them, my mother included and he'd have killed me too if –" Akanni paused, felt his heart skip a painful beat and he took the moment to catch his breath, unaware that he had started heaving. He bowed his head, looked at his claws and forced himself to plunge them further into the grass and dirt until the beginnings of his forepaws were almost covered in the hard and soft clogs of the brown surface which he laid upon.

Rasuli carefully reached out and touched a forepaw to his, expecting Akanni to move away, rise and snarl at him. But the younger lion did nothing of the kind. Surprised, but glad, he went on to say, "Yes, I know what Dhoruba did, but do you remember what his father was like?"

The question caught him off guard. He couldn't reply because he vaguely remembered Dhoruba's father. "All I know of him is that everyone, including my mother, was afraid of him."

"Why do you think that is?"

Akanni shrugged. "He was mean and cruel."

Rasuli nodded. "What, or who, made him that way?"

He turned his head to the side and mumbled, "How should I know?"

"Bear with me, Akanni."

"His parents, maybe his father…"

"Dhoruba's grandfather was not a good lion, and he taught his son to be the same. Dhoruba's father, Abasi, tried to teach Dhoruba his way of life."

Akanni scoffed. "Yes, and it got him killed."

Rasuli couldn't argue with that and he put his eyes on Dhoruba, thinking the King wanted to say something or was going to add something but he didn't. From the looks of it the Western Plains ruler was uncomfortable being not too far from the lion who clearly wanted to tackle him to the ground and make him answer for his crimes the old fashioned way: with claws, teeth and blood spilled. Rasuli couldn't blame Akanni for the pain he still carried, but it was time to let go. He knew Dhoruba wasn't the only one suffering and to see up close just how much strife Akanni had made him wish that Dhoruba's grandfather and any lion of that bloodline who came before… Rasuli closed his eyes and shivered with inward rage.

"Look, Rasuli, I'm still not sure about why you asked me to come here, and frankly I've had enough." Akanni rose and prepared to leave.

"If you go now, you'll miss the reason why I asked for your presence today."

He stopped and slightly turned his head. "And what reason is that?"

"I know you want King Dhoruba to somehow pay for what he did, but your want would only continue the cycle Dhoruba got away from."

_What?!_ Teeth bared Akanni turned completely around to face the three felines, his legs sprawled, his front claws still out. His back claws were not far from showing themselves. His tail switched, the fur on his back began to rise. "Yes, he got away from it by spilling innocent blood!" the redmaned male spat.

"His father abused him and his mother neglected him. What would you have done?" Rasuli asked in a reasonable voice.

This question silenced Akanni. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of a clear answer, but couldn't. Giving up, he sat down on his haunches while Rasuli rose, stretched and did the same thing. Dhoruba and Kesha were silent, watching the two lions and looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

"I…" He tried to think of more to say but couldn't.

"Akanni, I didn't ask you here to remind you of the past. It appears you do enough of that, as does Dhoruba."

"What's your point?"

"My point is you're young, with a full life ahead. In fact I think that you're about the same age Dhoruba was when he… you know."

"Get on with it!" Akanni shouted in a frustrated voice.

"Whether you know it or not you need peace and so does he. Therefore I ask that you join us – him, Queen Kesha, and me on a journey."

His curiosity was piqued, only a little. "And where may that be?"

"The place where you and Dhoruba were born: your homeland." Before the gold tan lion could reply or protest, Rasuli added, "Don't bother trying to lie to me Akanni. You _want_ peace. You don't want to live with all this anger and pain. You and Dhoruba want the same thing; you just won't admit it, not even to each other. You've been in pain for so long it's time to let it go and the only way to do that and make sure it's gone forever, is to return to the place where the pain started."

Akanni laughed ruefully. "What if you're wrong?"

Rasuli stared at the young lion with hard, narrowed eyes. "I'm not, and some part of you knows that."

He stepped back. Rasuli's gaze was piercing and he found himself remembering what he said to Johari. _Piercing fur and skin, drawing blood…_ That's what was happening with him. Rasuli was staring at him the way a hunter would stare at their intended prey as they imagined bringing it down. Rasuli's eyes were like a hunter's sharp teeth. Akanni swallowed hard, nearly choked. Yes, he knew that Rasuli was right about everything, especially about him wanting peace. He also knew that if Shabihi were with him, hearing all of this, she would tell him to go. Thinking about her nearly brought him to the ground but he managed to keep himself up.

He bowed his head, suddenly feeling a stinging wetness in his eyes. He dreamed about peace, to sleep without dreaming about his mother and her death almost every night. He'd thought a lot about peace before he decided to stay in the Western Plains. Yes, his affection for Johari had a lot to do with that, but it wasn't the only reason he stayed. It was the friendship he had formed with Prince Jibade, the camaraderie he experienced with them and their siblings, aside from Hadhari. He wanted a bond like theirs, he wanted…

He closed his eyes, felt the wetness stream down his face. It was an assurance his spirit confirmed. He wasn't sure but he felt a soft breeze blow in his mane and through his fur, as if nuzzling him. He shivered a little at that and as two questions ran through his mind. Could he endure a journey with King Dhoruba? Once they arrived at their place of birth just how would they get the peace Rasuli spoke of? Another question after that and then another until Akanni shrugged them off. He wouldn't know the answers unless…

He snarled quietly. There was no other choice and he knew it. Yes, he wanted peace and knew in his heart that Johari wanted him to find it because she cared about him that much. The same could be said of Queen Kesha in the way she cared for her mate. Another swallow, another sigh and Akanni looked up, staring first at Dhoruba, his eyes cold, but hopefully softened if only a little, and then at Rasuli. He shifted his weight from one paw to the other, trying to wake both his forelegs, which had fallen asleep. He hadn't even noticed. His whiskers twitched while his heart beat and his stomach growled with hunger pangs.

"So, you want to help, then? That's why you're here?" he asked.

Rasuli nodded. "Yes."

Akanni looked at Dhoruba again, but his next question was for the old lion. "When do we leave?"

"The sooner, the better," Rasuli answered.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

They had no idea where Hadhari was, and since this family meeting was about him they all felt it was best he wasn't around. This was the first gathering they'd ever had, at least for Bukua, his mate and their daughters. One of the last meetings he had with any other member of his family was when his brothers Ulan and Kato told him they planned to go with Prince Taraji on his permanent stay in the kingdom to the east where he would marry their heiress and in turn become King. Taraji's father did not want his son going alone so Ulan and Kato volunteered to escort him.

After leaving the den without anything to eat – no one was hungry – Bukua stopped to lay in the shade of a tree. Where it had been cool earlier, the temperature rose to an almost unbearable point. Shade provided necessary relief. Bukua put one forepaw atop the other and looked at his wife and daughters, his jaw set, his face determined, but his eyes gave off the heaviness of the task before him. The look also told the lionesses in front of him that as much as the father in him did not want to speak any of this, the guardian side of him reminded him that he had no choice; he had to think about his family, the pride, and the royal family. No one was in danger yet. The possibility of there ever being, however, grew and it frightened him.

Was Hadhari a force to reckoned with? Was he unstable? Did he pose a grave threat, and from within the pride, the family? These were questions that filled Bukua's mind daily, ever since he and Hadhari found Akanni. Then the questions began to persist constantly once King Dhoruba told them of his past, and became nearly unbearable when it was certain and evident, even from a distance, that Akanni and his youngest daughter Johari appeared to share a strong, respectable affection for one another. And Hadhari was very clear when he said either aloud or to himself when he thought no one was looking that he tolerated neither the King's past nor Johari and Akanni's growing bond. Bukua worried that his son was going to do something stupid, drastic and if that was true…

He breathed in a lungful of air; let it out slowly through his mouth. He spoke solemnly, slowly. "Hadhari cannot stay in the Western Plains. I fear he means to do Dhoruba and Akanni harm, if not now, then soon." Before the words left his mouth he was quick to regret them and he chided himself for not easing his way in. The females in front of him were the most important creatures in his life, and _this_ was the way he told them what had been on his mind in recent days? As he expected Ajia, Nasila, and Johari all looked at each other not in surprise or shock, but in understanding. Now it was he who was surprised.

"What…?" The word had come out quietly, dryly. His heart carefully pounded and then gradually increased as anxiety gave way. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth until he let it hang out, thinking it would give him some relief.

"Bukua, you're not the only one who's been concerned for Hadhari," said his mate as she moved to lie beside him and put a paw on his in a gesture of comfort. "I, too, have seen the way he behaves and it worries me. His reaction to Dhoruba's past was shocking, that much is true, but…" She paused, her ears now backward, pressed against her head. Then, "Do you really think he would hurt Dhoruba?"

Bukua slowly shook his mane. "Maybe not… I don't know. He doesn't look at Dhoruba with the same kind of respect. That's gone, and I doubt anything will make Hadhari understand that the King's actions were out of survival, no matter how conflicting."

"It's not just the King he's lost respect for Father," said Nasila. "He's lost respect for Jibade too, doesn't understand how he can still recognize his father as King. Hadhari pretty much thinks he's gone crazy. While he has never said as much to me, I just know, and I can tell Jibade is frustrated with having to explain his motives and actions to him." She turned her head to the side and muttered, "I don't blame him."

She didn't speak anymore after that. No one did.

But everyone had thoughts they wanted to speak, but were afraid to address. Including Johari, who was never the kind to blurt out what was on her mind. She was the quiet one who preferred solitude and act without being seen or heard. She played with the grass blades with her paw, moving it in a circular motion. Then she said, "He may not hurt Akanni, but I wouldn't put it past him to try." She knew everyone was looking at her now. Did they see her eyes flash with what could have been anger? "And you all know why." She raised her head up, eyeing her parents and sister carefully. Her tail tapped the grass and she shifted her weight some. "I care for Akanni, and he cares for me. I'm not sure if it's love, but does it matter."

It wasn't a question and if it was the answer did not concern her. She knew her parents well enough to know that when she, Nasila and Hadhari started to become adults they began to treat them that way. It was also their way of saying that as much as they loved them they could not protect them forever. For Bukua and Ajia, seeing their son and daughters go from being cubs to adults meant allowing them to make their own decisions, good and bad.

With their youngest daughter's last words Bukua and Ajia looked at each other in silent agreement. They couldn't argue with her. She was grown up, and clearly held affection for the gold tanned colored lion. He meant her no harm, and when the two started spending so much time together – especially when Johari decided to stay in Akanni's chamber at night before and after he regained his strength – Bukua mentally vowed that if the redmaned male ever laid a claw on his youngest girl he'd lay a few claws on him to send a message: no one messes with his precious jewel.

At length the lion met eyes with Johari and he shook his medium dark brown maned head. "No, it doesn't matter at all, Johari. Akanni is a good lion, and I don't believe he would ever hurt anyone unless he was defending himself or someone else."

A slightly tense silence filled the air and the next one to speak was Ajia. "Earlier, you said that you had a plan regarding Hadhari. What is it?"

Bukua sighed loudly, weighed his words and braced himself. "Like I said, he may not hurt Dhoruba, Akanni, or even Jibade… yet, but I don't think a chance should be taken. When I became guard leader I made a promise to my father, to myself, and to the guardianship of the Western Plains, which have stood for many a generation, to keep these lands, the pride, the royal family and the guards under my command and care, safe from any enemy be they born here or outside a kingdom. Hadhari has fallen by the wayside and I do not think he would be willing to listen to any advice we have to give that would help him get back to being who he was." His ears went back, his gaze dropped and he swallowed a lump in his throat. He loved Hadhari, the young lion was his son, but with recent events he was at a loss. He could see the end and there was only one way not to make it painful.

The lionesses all looked at each other then back to him, silently asking him to continue.

Bukua flexed his forepaws along the grass, the tips moving against the pads of his paws. He shifted his weight again. His back legs were asleep so he moved them out from underneath him and behind him, stretching them out, feeling the muscles in his back pop.

"So… what do you think should be done Father?" asked Nasila, and just for a moment she wished Jibade was here for this. He had only told her in whispers that her brother's behavior was getting to him but she saw the evidence of that for herself a few days ago and ever since she'd been almost unable to get that image of an angry, frustrated Jibade out of her mind. She hoped the next time she ever saw him like that was because of stubborn animal representatives, creatures he barely knew, and not from someone he'd known since he was a cub.

"I feel Hadhari should stay with your uncles Ulan and Kato, in King Taraji's kingdom."

The females looked at each other again, not knowing what to say and or how to say it. Then Ajia, in a halting voice asked, "Why with your brothers?"

He turned to her, his eyes insistent, but kind. "My love, he can't stay here anymore. True, nothing has happened but that doesn't mean Hadhari won't change his mind and try something in the future. You and I both know that Dhoruba is still a very strong lion, but he's not as young as he used to be. Hadhari is both strong and young, and while Akanni is not as old as our son perceives him to be…" He shrugged a little, not wanting to speak because he knew what was going through their minds.

For Hadhari and Akanni to engage in a fight with claws and teeth, it would be difficult to determine who would win. Both lions were strong and capable of endurance, Akanni especially with all his time outside a kingdom. For all they knew he fought every single day just to eat and survive. None of them could imagine what he went through except Dhoruba.

Bukua licked his dry mouth and wished the shade was a little cooler. He addressed them again. "The guardianship in Taraji's kingdom is stricter; they don't take misbehaving as merely cub's play, and any guardian that shows signs of instability or fails to fulfill his or her duties are immediately removed. If need be they are given two options: Follow the guardian rules and keep their position or don't and just remain regular members of the pride. If it's a lioness guard she has the choice to follow the guard rules or join the hunting parties. With lion guards, however, in the event they no longer wish to be guardians they can leave the lands and find one of their own, same for guards who are mates or for guards who have mates on the hunting parties."

"Uncle Ulan and Uncle Kato told you this?" asked Johari with one ear pulled back.

Her father nodded. "Yes, on one of their last visits." He paused and when no one else spoke, he said, "I just feel Hadhari could benefit from their guardianship than ours. Think about it. Guards of the Western Plains have never had this sort of problem, so, really, we don't know what to do. And the guardians in King Taraji's kingdom are not all family, at least not by blood."

Neither female could go against that. They nodded their heads carefully, almost swiftly.

"Do you think Uncle Ulan and Uncle Kato would be willing to take Hadhari under their supervision?" Nasila asked.

Bukua shook his head. "I'm not sure. I'll have to ask them when they visit again, which should be fairly soon."

"So we're not going to tell them about King Dhoruba?"

He sighed deeply. "I'll have to think about that. They know Dhoruba, but not as well as I, so they might be better off _not_ knowing." He shrugged, a sharp shudder passing through him like a blast of cold wind. "That is, unless Taraji tells them, which he might because he's going to know through his sister."

"Bukua," said Ajia, looking at her mate with gentle eyes. "I think this is a good plan. Who knows? Maybe Hadhari will benefit from stricter guardian rules, and it will give him a much needed change. He won't be around so much… family." She blinked and laid her head on Bukua's shoulder. As much as she loved her son, her mate was right: for the sake of not only their King, but two possible future son-in-laws, one of them being the heir to the Western Plains, and for her daughters, Hadhari had to leave the kingdom before he did something he would regret. But would he? The idea was too agonizing to think about.

"Nasila, Johari," Bukua said, eyeing his girls carefully. Whether they agreed with him or not, he was still the leader of not only their family but the guardianship and while he loved them he had the final say. This was his plan. Though it was personal it was also a job that he had to do. His duty to his family and the guardianship were really becoming one and the same, at least in the case of his son's near erratic behavior.

"Father…" It was Nasila. "Part of me loves Hadhari, always will, but if he dares to speak in a manner about the King that offends Jibade, I will defend Jibade first. I love him, he is my future mate. I hope you can understand."

"Yes, I do."

"The same goes for me with Akanni," Johari said, her eyes firm and determined. "As I said before I'm not sure where he and I stand – I don't think he knows either, I'm sure we will speak of that later – but he's been through too much in his life to have another lion he barely knows keep telling him that he has no business being in the Plains let alone around me. If Hadhari were just an overprotective friend I guess I wouldn't mind so much, but he's not. He's family." She looked at Nasila and felt her sister's conviction and pain as if it were her own. "He's our brother and while he is the eldest, he has no say over our lives, especially over who we consider spending the rest of our lives with."

Nasila faced her father again, knew Johari was too. Together they stared at him. "Dad, when Uncle Ulan and Uncle Kato get here please convince them to take Hadhari back with them. I know you and Mom love him. Johari and I do too but the longer he stays here the more of a risk he poses."

No other words were needed. The guards, the family was in complete agreement.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The Prince of the Western Plains showed no signs of worry or alarm when it was clear to him that the guardians would not be patrolling today. And he couldn't blame them. They were a family, with or without Hadhari, and he could only guess that Bukua's only son was the reason they were taking a day off from making sure the borders were safe. Jibade knew the guardian leader well enough to know that with his position he had the respect of every carnivore in the kingdom. He also knew that some of those carnivores offered their services to Bukua in exchange for nothing in return, and if anything bad were to happen a few would be sent to Bukua without a moment's hesitation or thought.

No, he wouldn't blame the older lion for wanting time with his mate and daughters. After recent events being with family was clearly most needed. He just hoped that if their time together was about Hadhari he hoped that Bukua would make the right decision, whatever it was. Nasila would tell him, of that he was certain. She wasn't the kind to keep something from him, especially something he would never allow her to bear alone.

He stood on the stone ledge, his paw pads deeply nestled into the stone ground, his eyes sharp and alert. Not even his tail moved behind him in soft, swift strokes like it usually did when he was up there. He took in a deep breath and let it out through his nose, his eyes now on a group of lions in the distance. He could just barely see the tan sandy fur of his mother, but it was her all right he had no doubt. There was her, his father, Akanni, and what appeared to be the lion Rasuli.

Prince Jibade slowly sat down on his haunches, moving his forepaws up and down, feeling the pain in his legs from having stood in one place for too long. He felt a breeze hit him in the face; move in his mane, blowing about his face. His whiskers twitched, confusion filled him. Why were his parents in what looked like a meeting with Rasuli and Akanni? He hoped nothing was wrong, wanted it that way. So much had happened with him, his family and his friends since his father told him about his past. All the while Hadhari was turning into a completely different lion in his presence and everyone else's from the moment Akanni decided to stay in the pride. Seeing the effect of a life filled with uncertainty and turmoil, where one's actions could so drastically affect another, sometimes beyond repair…

Ever since birth Jibade and his sister lived peaceful cushy lives in the Western Plains, completely oblivious to life on the outside, away from a kingdom and the safety that a pride could give them. The Prince and Princess grew under the simple reign of their parents, held in their hearts and minds the stories of rulers past, mainly their grandfather who so many believed was incorruptible. After hearing about his father's life Jibade knew that anyone could be corrupted. It was just a matter of choosing not to be and his father had chosen not to, and did it in a way that held no other option. Dhoruba had reached his breaking point in the pride he was born in.

Jibade learned the fragility of the mind and made a silent prayer to never fall into a trap that would enable him to become corrupt like his paternal grandfather. Mpenzi did too. She never said it aloud, but he knew his sister enough to know she felt the same as he did. He kept his eyes on the group of three lions and the lioness, his ears going all the way forward, standing up straight. What were they talking about?

"Preoccupied this morning, brother?" said a voice from behind.

Jibade slowly turned his head, just able to see his sister come up to him, her dark navy blue eyes concerned. The siblings bumped heads. "Mpenzi," he said, allowing his head to nuzzle hers gently. "Yes, I am actually." He pulled away and turned back to the group in the distance. "Something's going on down there, and…" He shrugged, a rare thing for him, but with all that he'd learned and seen in recent days he wasn't too surprised at his sudden lack of strong control. "And I find myself worried."

The Princess followed his gaze, her eyes falling on the small forms of her parents, the redmaned lion, and the elderly lion her brother and her best friend found a few days ago. She understood her brother's concern, felt it. Her brow furrowed deeply in thought, musing. She shifted her weight, the stone ground suddenly feeling harder on her paws pads than usual. She wanted to be truthful and say the right thing, but what was that? She wasn't sure. Her father's past had told her that while truth could be a beautiful thing it could also be very dangerous and in that event could lead someone to do something out of their character if only to save themselves from a worse fate. But this… her parents apparently meeting with Akanni and the older lion was strange.

"It must be something important… right? I hope nothing's wrong."

The words were quiet, but her brother heard. The words and her sudden downcast eyes made him turn to her, eye her with a sympathetic smile and lay his head near hers. "I'm sure everything is fine."

But as the words left his mouth he wasn't sure he believed them. Before their father remembered his painful past their lives had been just fine, even with the acceptance of Akanni not just into the kingdom and pride but their group as well. They couldn't blame their father King for everything they'd been seeing and experiencing. The way things were going now wasn't his fault, but neither of them could disagree, even silently, that Hadhari's growing resentment of Akanni and now Rasuli wasn't helping.

As they continued to stare at the small circle of lions and lionesses Jibade began to wonder about Nasila and her family. It was inevitable that the guardians talk about Hadhari. Part of him wished he could be there but his attention was on his parents and the other two males.

"Should we go down there?" Mpenzi asked, her tail moving one way then the next in slow, fluid motions.

Her brother looked down, ears going back and forth. He ran his tongue over his maw. _Should_ they? He sighed quietly, prayed silently his parents would understand or mind and gave a nod that told Mpenzi yes.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The Prince's non-verbal answer was right. They had to go down to see their parents and the two lions. When they arrived they were "most welcome" as Rasuli stated with a smile to match his words. Naturally, Dhoruba and Kesha were surprised at their son and daughter's sudden appearance. They exchanged glances with each other, their eyes telling them what their mouths could not: That it was best Jibade and Mpenzi were there now because it would save them from having to tell the two later.

Akanni looked at the royal siblings with shocked eyes but made no move to get up and leave. Jibade wasn't Hadhari and neither the Prince nor Princess would make him feel uncomfortable or unwelcome.

Dhoruba looked at Rasuli. "Give them the short version, if possible."

The other lion nodded and began another explanation of his plan, doing as the King requested and did not go the long way. Jibade and Mpenzi listened very carefully, nodding now and again with their ears going backward and forward, whiskers twitching as often as they nodded. The atmosphere was still deciding what it wanted to be, but it was slightly warmer now than it had been earlier… or had it been colder?

Rasuli's words, his idea for their father stunned the royal siblings, yet it made sense. But would it work? Bringing their father and Akanni back to where their father's torment began was not only a risk it was also dangerous. Did they have any other choice? Would going back to where he was born and finally deal with the past mean their father would no longer have nightmares? What about Akanni? What would it mean for him?

Once Rasuli finished speaking the Prince and Princess walked to the waterhole and drank deeply. Water dripping from their whiskers and chins the two looked at each other.

"Should we trust him with Dad's life?" Mpenzi asked, her eyes matching the doubts of her words.

Jibade sighed and shook his mane, feeling older than he was. A few days ago he had made the decision to take this malnourished lion to his parents and now that same lion wanted to take his father on a journey to find what sounded like healing? If he were any other lion he would say so, but if it was the right thing? What if this was the chance his father was looking for? It needed to be taken, no matter the risks.

Jibade turned to his sister, his light gray colored eyes gently probing while his spirit prayed for her to understand what he was about to say. The sun's light beat down on his back. "Father owes it to himself and those he killed. He even owes to Akanni, who he feels he wronged, which he did." The lion shrugged then continued. "Father's sorry for what he did. You know it, I know it, and Mother knows it. Even Bukua and his family know it. Why should we be doubtful?" His voice was low as he spoke, but just in case he lowered it some more. "We can trust Rasuli. I firmly believe that and he wouldn't have told us all of that if he didn't think he could help Father and Akanni." He paused and took another drink. "Mpenzi, you know Father can't go on like this. He needs closure and so does Akanni."

It took a little while until the Princess, though she still had doubts and 'what-if this or that happened', nodded in agreement. Jibade smiled, nuzzled her and they returned to the group. "Rasuli, my sister Mpenzi and I trust you with the lives of our father and our friend Akanni. Bring them home safely."

Dhoruba and Kesha stared at their son and daughter with proud looks on their faces. Then Kesha stared up at them. "I'll be going with them."

The eyes of the siblings widened in shock. "Mother… but… why," Mpenzi sputtered.

The Queen looked at her daughter, their same colored eyes fixed on one another. "What if it were me, Mpenzi, instead of your father? Do you think he would stay behind while I go with Rasuli or some other lion, even though he can be trusted?"

The question was more than enough to get Mpenzi to lower her eyes and nod in resignation and surrender. Her mother had a point, though it pained her to silently admit it.

"I'd probably follow you at a distance," Dhoruba said with an almost playful smile on his face but Kesha knew he meant it.

Jibade, however, knowing the seriousness of the situation and the love his parents bore for each other, nodded deeply, looking every inch a future King. He wasn't going to tell his mother she couldn't go. She was still the Queen, his sovereign first and his mother second. "I understand Mother. What about the kingdom? Will Bukua be Regent in your absence?"

Dhoruba and Kesha looked at each other. Once Akanni said he would go the King and Queen walked a little ways from them and talked about the very question their son had asked. Their conversation wasn't very long and the decision was easy. When Dhoruba and Kesha looked back at their son, smiles of pride filled their faces, reached their eyes, and Jibade felt a large weight settle itself upon his brown shoulders. He moved his forelegs a little and swallowed.

Dhoruba said, "Your mother and I were thinking, discussing, actually. How would you feel about being in charge of the pride while we're gone?"

The Prince's jaw dropped and he thought he was going to fall on his stomach because his legs felt extremely weak. Did they just… Did they really mean… "No. No, no, I can't. I-I'm not…"

Dhoruba rose, walked over to his son and stared at him, their same colored eyes meeting. "Yes. You are ready for this. Jibade, you are the son of the King and Queen, a grandson of Kings and Queens. To rule is in your blood. It's what your mother and I have been training you for. Think about it. This will give you the perfect opportunity to see what you will have to do when it is your time. Bukua already has his paws full with the guardianship. I couldn't ask him to take on more than his fair share, not when there is another lion with Western Plains' blood that is just as capable. You, Jibade… you..."

The young Prince swallowed hard, the reality of his father's words striking him as though he'd been hit with an antelope's horn and a zebra's hoof. His heart pounded. Questions filled his mind, causing hurt. He side-glanced at Mpenzi only to see her nod and smile at him, silently saying, "It's okay, you can do this, I know you can. So do Mom and Dad otherwise they wouldn't have asked."

He let out a breath, looked away then allowed his eyes to meet his father's again. "What do you want me to tell everyone: Hubiri, Ibada, the pride, if any of them asks, and the guards?"

Before Dhoruba could reply he heard Kesha say, "Since Ibada, Bukua and his family know about your father's past, it's okay to tell them the truth. As for the pride, so far no one suspects anything is wrong, and even if they do they won't put their noses where they do not belong."

Her mate nodded. "And Hubiri doesn't really care who he answers to as long as it is a member of the royal family." Dhoruba's ears lowered a little. "The only thing Hubiri knows is that I haven't been myself but am slowly working on getting better, and that's all he needs to know should he ask about me."

"I promise both of you, that I won't let you down," Jibade said, his eyes holding firm to the words that left his mouth.

His parents nuzzled him. "We know, Jibade, and we're proud of you," Dhoruba said, gently head bumping his son. Then he faced Mpenzi and kissed his daughter's cheek. "That goes for you too, my sweet girl."

The Princess returned the gesture as a tear falling from her right eye, down her furred cheek. "Thank you Father. I hope that you and Akanni find peace."

"As do I, sweetheart."


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The same day, in the afternoon, the guardians were told – given the shorter version. Rasuli knew he didn't have enough mental energy to explain it all a third time at long length; there had been enough of that. Dhoruba and Akanni _needed_ to be told the long way, and the King's son had found him and shown him gracious hospitality which was why he and his sister were given a slightly shorter telling. But the guardians were merely servants, at least as far as Rasuli was concerned – he still made sure not to interfere in personal matters. Whatever would happen in the absence of the King and Queen was not his problem, though he sent a silent prayer for everyone's well being while he was gone with their leaders and the young redmaned male.

Once Rasuli finished his very short explanation, King Dhoruba informed his guardians that there was nothing to worry about, that the lands would be placed in the capable paws of Prince Jibade.

"Serve my son as you as serve Kesha and I," the blackmaned ruler said, giving the other lion and three lionesses what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Queen Kesha and I will return as soon as possible. Until then, Prince Jibade will be Regent of the Western Plains."

Bukua was the first to stare at the young lion who would one day become his son through marriage. He bowed his head, giving off a soft growl of obedience and recognition of this new development. While he did not understand any of it – this day had been filled with too many surprises, one of which had come from him – he wasn't going to argue. He couldn't, and he wanted his King and friend to find some peace from his tormented past.

He wanted the same for Akanni, another lion who would, also one day, become his son through marriage. It pleased him to know that though he would lose a son, at least in the family sense, he would gain two others and his daughters would be happy and content. To gain and lose was part of life but it did not make the slight pain he felt at his decision on how to help Hadhari any less surprising or unnecessary.

Everything so far, from his decision, to Rasuli's plan for the King and Akanni, to Queen Kesha's choice to go with the three lions, and to the leaders' idea to have Prince Jibade be Regent in their stead had merit and purpose. Who was he to disagree with that? He only did so when it conflicted with the way he believed and none of that was happening here. If he disagreed, even a little, he would be interfering with events that could alter those he loved and cared for, with events that could bring about much needed peace, understanding and second chances.

"I will serve you faithfully, Prince Jibade," said Bukua, his voice gentle but firm.

The young blackmaned lion smiled and bowed his head in return. "I know."

The rest of the guardians bowed their heads in silent, solemn respect. Nasila managed to smile at Jibade, her eyes shining a little. He noticed, returned the loving gesture, and found himself longing for the day when they would have the same partnership as his parents. This, him being Regent, King in all but name temporarily would give them a taste of what it would be when he took his parents' place as the next ruler of the Western Plains.

After wordless acceptance the group of lions split into two groups – King Dhoruba, his mate along Bukua and his. The other consisted of the Prince and Princess and the two lionesses they'd known since cubhood. Akanni was among them because they considered him a friend.

Rasuli went off to the side, not one for group talk, save the few he'd just had. But they were out of necessity, part of his plan, the reason he'd even entered the Western Plains. Now that it was over he could rest before he left with the King, Queen and Akanni. He would need his strength. He put his head down, closed his eyes and prayed that everything would be prepared once they arrived in the land covered in the bones of a dead lion, lionesses, cubs, and so many other animals.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bukua sighed, feeling mentally and emotionally defeated. He had not wanted to tell Dhoruba and Kesha his plan for his only son, but with the words the old lion had spoken, the agreement Dhoruba had reached with him and Kesha's decision to join her mate, this old lion, and the younger male Akanni, on the journey proved to be too much. Bukua could not hold it in. His two dearest friends, one who had been like a sister to him and his brothers, and another who was a nearly fourth brother…

As soon as he could breathe and once the older adults were alone he spilled out everything. His words had been reluctant, almost stutter but with Ajia's ever constant support he had managed and when he finished he bowed his head, feeling a sharp pain in his eyes. He shut them, tried to suppress the wetness which unfortunately failed. The tears seeped out of his eyes, his body heaved. It was the right decision, he knew that with all his heart but it didn't make it any less impacting.

He had thought Ajia would be the broken one here and she would be, when it was just him and her together. Only then would she lean on him and he would tell her how much he loved her and their girls, how he would remind her that there was no other choice. Hadhari had to be sent away for everyone's own good, including his own, for everyone's best interest, that it was a punishment and wasn't. He felt Ajia nuzzle him, lay her head atop his, her chin and throat buried in his brown mane, heard her quiet purr of support and her own, for the time being, repressed emotions. She was so strong, one of the many he reasons he fell for her and why he loved her still.

When Dhoruba spoke it jolted him, made him raise his head abruptly. If Ajia was surprised when her head slipped off his she did not say, nor would she.

"You're doing the right thing, my friend," said the King with a slow elegant nod. "Hadhari is your son; this decision does not change that in any way. This might be good for him, what he needs."

"And I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind another guardian," Kesha added with a small smile. Her heart went out to her friends and she admired Bukua for coming up with a plan any other lion in his position and situation would never have even considered and it showed just how much he loved Hadhari, despite his cold, indifferent and almost rebellious like behavior. She wondered when Taraji would come. She missed him and hoped to see him on his next visit, provided he came after Dhoruba and Akanni found their peace, but if Taraji visited while she was gone, or he was already going back to his lands by the time she returned to hers… She shook her head a little. Whatever happened she had to be there for Dhoruba. He came first.

"Kesha, should Taraji and my brothers come while…"

She nodded. "It is possible and if he does send my love and regards."

"You have my word." Bukua paused, his ears going back for a moment, then, "If Taraji visits while you are gone, what do you want me to tell him should he ask where you are?" _Which he will… I would._

At that Dhoruba and Kesha looked at each other in what felt like a long silence. It broke when Dhoruba said, "Kesha and I think it's best that Jibade tell him." He shook his head, continuing, "In truth it doesn't matter who tells him, he won't be happy about any of it." Dhoruba remembered how hesitant Taraji was when he first joined the Western Plains. Back then the lion Prince did not want to trust a rogue found passed out on the borders, let alone see his only sister make sure he was treated well by everyone or watch over him during the night while he recovered.

An idea struck him at the remembrance, making his heart pound. "Bukua should your brothers and Taraji visit while Kesha, Akanni and I are away, have Taraji speak with your son. It might provide some insight from one brother of a lioness to that of another." Seeing the two guardians surprised stares, he said, "Remember how Taraji didn't want to trust me because I was a rogue, one you found passed out?" He faced Kesha, though his words were still for Bukua. "Remember how she watched over me while I recovered from my injuries, how we formed a friendship, a bond that would last?" He paused, looked at his guardian friend out of the corner of his eye, hoping he would understand and remember.

Bukua's mouth dropped, his eyes widened in astonishment and revelation. Of course! Why didn't he see it before? His youngest daughter was in the same situation Queen Kesha herself had been several years before! The two lionesses were alike, as were Akanni and Dhoruba, and the same could be said Hadhari and Taraji, though the latter had discovered Dhoruba wasn't a bad lion, really cared for Kesha and she for him. King Amri had seen no problem in naming Dhoruba his successor alongside Kesha and giving the dark brown lion permission to marry his daughter and heiress.

But Hadhari and Taraji were two very different lions. Taraji had released his hesitation and concern about Dhoruba after he had chosen to get to know him. Hadhari made no such choice and seem to revel in his desire not to. It was as though he wanted to make strife within the group he'd known since he was a cub. That he wanted his sisters to hate him, to have his father come to a decision that was in everyone's best interests.

"Yes," Bukua said, drawing the word out with great care. "I remember, and…" He glanced to the side, to Ajia, speaking as he looked at her, hoping she would agree when he said, "You're right. Taraji should speak to Hadhari. Whether something good comes out of it, I'm not sure, but…" He paused, his heart beating, his throat constricted.

Ajia nuzzled him lovingly. "It can't hurt to try."

No one could argue with that and there was nothing more to say. The King and guardian were now on separate paths: Dhoruba to put his past to rest once and for all, Bukua to protect his son from further behavioral destruction by sending him away, and the two's respective mates trying to offer as much support as they could while telling themselves that the journeys that lay ahead were the right ones.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Is your father certain he wants to do this?" Nasila had been hesitant and reluctant to ask. But as the future mate to the future heir of the Western Plains she felt she had to speak what she'd thought since she, her sister and parents had been told not too long ago. Rasuli's knowledge of her King's past had surprised her and she knew without a doubt that her family felt the same. How could they not?

Jibade looked at her and dipped his head. "Yes. I think… no, he _has_ to. He _needs_ it." The young lion paused and glanced at the redmaned lion that instantaneously appeared uncomfortable, but only slightly. Jibade gave him a look, a wordless addition to his previous statement – _As do you _which Akanni acknowledged with a quick, short dip of his own head.

"How do you feel about being named Regent while your parents are gone?" Johari asked, drawing her words out carefully. She couldn't help giving her own side glance toward Akanni. He would be leaving along with the King and Queen and the old lion too. She also couldn't help the thoughts going through her mind at how he was taking all of this and whether he really was fine with it. She knew how easy it was for him to keep things to himself and how he started to slowly trust her with his thoughts and fears. She was certain that he would tell her just what he was thinking when it was just the two of them; there was no other way for him to express his own vulnerability. She hoped and inwardly prayed that once this journey of peace was over he would be content to speak with her in the presence of the lions they were near now.

Jibade sighed heavily, but the look in his eyes spoke the truth of his next words. "I was surprised." Seeing his sister's look he added, "Okay, I was shocked, but they wouldn't have asked me if they didn't think I could do it."

No one, not even Akanni could argue with that but when the conversation moved toward Bukua's latest revelation Jibade stiffened, knew his sister did the same. The Prince asked the obvious, but needed question to the two lionesses: How do you feel about it?

Nasila and Johari spoke truthfully. "He needs it," the eldest said. "None of us can keep going like this, and I don't mean that strictly as a family."

The royal siblings exchanged knowing stares. It was true. None of them could keep stealthily moving around this subject. Hadhari's behavior was dangerous, risky, and the longer he stayed in the Western Plains the greater the situation.

Silence filled the area, and while things were uncertain, maybe a little bit tense at the idea of Hadhari showing up and the fear of telling him about recent events (that is if he was even interested, which everyone knew he wasn't), they all tried to think of something to lighten the mood and ease any unwanted fears, one of them or all of them, might have. Without speaking Akanni got to his paws in one swift movement and left. They all watched, Johari's eyes lingering the longest as he departed. Then she looked at her sister who gave the understanding nod that said, 'Go.' She did just that and as soon as she was out of hearing range Nasila turned to Jibade.

"Is he going to be alright with your father and this idea of Rasuli's?"

As expected the Prince sighed deeply, his heart hurting for his father and the lion he considered a friend. He still had only known Akanni for what seemed like a short time yet he felt the redmaned male was more a real friend to him than Hadhari, a lion he'd known since cubhood, ever was. If it had been him and his own father who found Akanni instead of Hadhari and his father the result would have been the same – Akanni would be accepted and Hadhari would still come up with one reason or another to doubt that he was trustworthy.

He could only answer the lioness he loved honestly. "I don't know. I hope so. My father is being careful, cautious, not trying to say the wrong thing, especially about the past." He shook his head, his paws moving up and down to show just how anxious he felt. "What I do know is that the journey is going to be long and tense. Once they arrive who knows what'll happen." A shrug grabbed him and he trembled a little. "Truthfully I'm glad Mother is going with them. She can keep Father stable." Again, no one could argue. Everyone knew Queen Kesha was so much like her father, patient and calm. Jibade swallowed as he said, "When they return I hope Father and Akanni have found what Rasuli has promised." He looked around at them and spoke the word that was on their minds, maybe on their tongues too. "Peace…"

"Yes," Mpenzi said quietly.

Nasila nodded. "Yes."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Since joining the Western Plains kingdom and its pride, Akanni wished he could be surprised by something, anything. But from the moment he decided to stay and learned the King of these lands was the same lion who had murdered his mother and his friends it was as though all need for surprise vanished.

Yes, the old lion's revelation of knowing what Dhoruba had done, that he knew about Akanni and Shabihi was surprising but it wasn't enough to force Akanni off his paws. The idea that a lion like Rasuli, and as old, said he could take him and Dhoruba back to the lands of their birth seemed ludicrous, insane, the mere ramblings of a lion who had lived too long and was starting to go senile. But something in Rasuli's eyes made him pause and listen, even though part of him wanted to believe the lion was nearly, if not completely, crazy.

The talk of this morning events and the thought of Hadhari returning to spread his wrong sayings was too much, which is why he left Johari, her sister and the royal brother and sister. He didn't go far, thinking if he did he would decide to leave permanently. For so long he had been tired of running and just wanted to rest, to belong, and now that he had both of these things part of him wanted to take off and forget his newly discovered fortune. He was glad to have it and terrified of losing it. He wanted balance.

Akanni was sitting in the grass, his head hung low as he stared at his reflection in a waterhole. If there was one thing the Western Plains did not lack it was large places filled with water to drink from or look into if someone wanted to contemplate something. The light gold lion sighed deeply, his body feeling every bit of his however many seasons of life and hardship. He sniffed the air and wanted to be angry at the scent he caught. But he couldn't be. She had followed because she wanted to help him, to get inside his head and find the source of his discomfort and pain. She often reminded him of Shabihi.

His eyes flashed for a moment with anger and he chided himself for wishing she was alive and here. She wasn't but he still missed her, the lioness who had been a mother figure to him since cubhood. She who had loved, cared for and protected him until he could, with growth and teaching, do the same alongside her and for her.

Akanni spoke, his voice low, but just enough for the lioness to hear. "You think I should go."

It was not a question and she wasn't surprised those would be his first words to speak now that they were alone. She responded with words measured in great care and some noticeable reluctance. "Peace." Then she forced herself to look at him, even if he didn't look back which he didn't. She couldn't blame him. He was afraid of what he might see in her eyes. "You need peace." Her words were soft, but he felt the impact they had on him in his heart.

His throat constricted, a large lump filling it. He couldn't speak; he couldn't move his head up or down. Perhaps his silence would speak volumes and give her the response she was waiting for. Then, "Maybe you're right. I want it," he heard himself say.

She believed him. His body at first stiffened and relaxed. There was more he wanted to say. "Akanni –"

His ear flickered. "You're afraid I might hurt your King on our little adventure." He paused. "I'm worried I might." He glanced at Johari. "But I won't. You must believe that. It'll take a lot of my willpower… but I won't harm Dhoruba, at least I'll try not to."

The lioness could only imagine his inner struggle and outward pain. She knew she couldn't order him to keep a promise that she herself knew she wouldn't be able to keep, if she endured everything he had. She could also imagine the courage it took for Akanni just to say yes to Rasuli's offer of help. She deeply admired the redmaned male's strength for that.

"I know," she said softly as she put a paw on his. He looked down at her with a small smile. Returning it she realized something. _Nasila is telling Jibade and his sister now. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if…_ She sighed hard, weighed her words with great care then said, "If you are concerned about me, I mean, while you're gone…"

_Hadhari… what if he…_ "Yes," he said, staring at her with alarm in his eyes. There was no mistake that he was concerned about that, had been since everyone gathered so Rasuli and Dhoruba could explain the much older lion's plan. He worried that the young guardian would continue to try poison Johari's mind against him and if he was gone… if he ever succeeded… He shut his eyes. "Johari…"

The lioness gave a short, soft purr, prepared herself and started to speak. She told him her thoughts about her father wanting to send Hadhari out of the Western Plains, to let him live with her two uncles who were guardians of a kingdom that Queen Kesha's brother, a King himself through marriage, ruled.

Akanni had listened to that before leaving the group. He'd only been half surprised, had known it was only a matter of time before Bukua had finally had enough of his son's reckless behavior and decided to do something about it. _You can only take so much._ For a moment he thought the same applied to King Dhoruba, a thought Akanni quickly forced away. No. Bukua's plan for his son and the King's past actions – actions that directly affected him – were very different.

Bukua's idea was about giving himself, his family and Hadhari as well, relief and a second chance at a peaceful life. From Johari's words it was clear her father had thought long and hard about this. For all Akanni knew, the elder guardian even agonized about it. If that were true Akanni could pass no blame on the lion that brought him here and saved his life in the process. When the lioness grew silent he stayed quiet. He listened closely, he always did whenever she spoke, even when he didn't like what she had to say and that had only happened a few times since he'd known her.

Tired from sitting too long, his legs numb, Akanni lay down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her do the same. "So, how do you feel about it?" he finally asked.

She looked down, her ears going backward then forward. "I think it's the best thing for him. And unlike my father, my uncles aren't leaders of the guardianship there, but… Maybe it's what he needs. To serve under guardians who aren't telling him where he should patrol." She paused, her heart suddenly feeling heavy in her chest, and flexed her paws, her claws coming out momentarily only to unsheathe. "Hadhari has always had a good relationship with my uncles; he's bound to stick with one of them." Johari closed her eyes. "I just hope he goes. It's his best chance, either that or exile."

Akanni nodded and found he wanted to say that if Hadhari chose exile he wouldn't survive away from a kingdom, "no matter how strong or tough he is". Instead of saying that, which he knew would hurt Johari's feelings, even though his thought was the truth, something she would agree with, he stayed silent and gently nuzzled her. She returned the gesture, sighing with fatigue, feeling it.

He was too; he was tired, exhausted and worried. Rasuli wanted to leave as soon as possible. Akanni figured it would be either tomorrow or the next day, but the old lion's eyes all but insisted it be tomorrow. Akanni hated the lion's idea, but the mere thought of peace brought reassurance to his spirit. He wasn't sure how Dhoruba felt about it and wasn't about to ask him. He wasn't even sure if making peace with Dhoruba was possible but Rasuli talked about the whole matter like it was really possible. He was glad Queen Kesha was going, believed that with her around he would be less tempted to think about racking his claws across the King's face or any other part of his body.

He sighed deeply on the inside, didn't even feel Johari move her head away from him. He watched the lands, heard the birds chirping, even saw a couple of giraffe reaching up with their long necks to gather some green leaves off the trees. From what he observed everything was as it should be. Content, peaceful, and Hadhari was still nowhere to be seen, which provided the lions and lionesses he considered friends with much needed rest, relaxation and no fear or worry. But the conversations he'd taken part in today…

He shut his eyes. The peace wouldn't last long, it couldn't. Not until everything was settled. He'd just learned that Hadhari's future, and the peace for Johari and her family rested in whether or not the Queen's brother would visit early while he, Rasuli, and the rulers were away. And his own future, his and Dhoruba's, rested in the fulfillment of Rasuli's promise, however he went about it.

And if they left tomorrow –

He wouldn't admit to anyone, not even to the lioness napping beside him… but he was afraid. Afraid of tomorrow and every day until he and Dhoruba returned to the lands of their births.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

He looked around, trying not to smell the scent of blood in the air and keep his eyes from looking at the skeletons that were either whole or in scattered all over. Avoiding either proved difficult, the urge to smell and look was nearly unbearable. But what he was seeing now wasn't real. It couldn't be. Once he finally arrived it would look nothing like this… he hoped. Here, everything was too visible to the eye, the smells too strong for the nose.

The air couldn't decide what it wanted to be. One moment it was so hot it was like walking through a barren desert with the heat of the sun making your entire body so warm inside and out you'd wind up begging any sort of higher power to create a large cooling waterhole so you can immerse yourself in it for relief. Or it was so cold you'd beg for the warmth of the sun. Either way, the state of the atmosphere was not real either. It was one or the other, never both and it was delivering heat or cold quite harshly, as if without mercy. It was hard to breathe, even harder to move.

He wanted out. He wanted to wake up. He tried to roar but couldn't.

"You'll be able to do nothing until we've had a talk."

He looked straight ahead, then to the right and to the left, but he could see no one. A strange, thick fog began to surround the entire area. "Who's there?" he managed to say, grateful for that if nothing else.

Slowly, a figure appeared in front, as if coming out of the fog or with it. "You don't recognize my voice?"

He stared hard and shook his head. The voice sounded male, old, several seasons older than him. "Should I?"

The voice seemed to chuckle as the body kept moving forward until him and it, or… _him_, were face to face. "Hello, Prince Dhoruba… my son."

His jaw dropped open, his grey colored eyes widened in astonishment. But something else lingered in his expression. Pain, anger, and rage, the very same emotions he felt on that dark, stormy day when…

"When you killed me? You remember that? Well, of course you do. Even in death I'd expect you to, and very soon you will pay for spilling the blood of your father King."

Dhoruba didn't speak. Why should he waste his breath on this non-existing form of his so-called father?

"But I'm not the only one you killed that day am I?" He walked upward, noticed that Dhoruba tried to back away but couldn't. A mirthless smile crossed his face. "You even killed your weak, poor excuse of a mother."

At that Dhoruba's eyes flashed. "Yes! I killed them all, but it's not like you gave me much of a choice."

The figure of the late King Abasi laughed cruelly. "I told you that I would turn you into the kind of ruler I wanted, one way or another. Too bad it cost me my life."

"Yes, you got what you wanted. Congratulations, Father!" His voice was dry, sarcastic, and he knew that if this version of his late father were flesh and blood they would be in a fight to the death right now.

"So, have you destroyed any other kingdoms?"

"Would you congratulate me if I had?"

Abasi smiled. "Yes I believe I would."

Silence fell between them while the atmosphere above drastically changed. Dark clouds filled the sky, lightning soon followed. Not long after that rain came in hard, sharp, painful drops, striking the ground and the two lions.

Abasi continued. "You will pay for what you did. Regicide is an unforgivable crime."

Dhoruba growled as a flash of lightning illuminated his face, showering him in its frightening silver glow. "So is beating your son whenever he failed to live up to your expectations."

"That's right. You _did_ fail. And like me, you will be judged." Abasi's front claws came out and a growl filled his throat.

His son noticed. "What are you doing?" he asked. His voice was slightly fearful. He felt himself shake. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky and the area where they stood. The air turned extremely cold, nearly unbearable.

Slowly, then rapidly, the form of the deceased ruler began to change. His dark brown colored fur, the mirror image of his son's, was being replaced with a pure black coloring. Abasi's pitch black colored mane turned darker, and the fur seemed to spread all the way down his back and his legs, nearly touching the grass. Then Abasi's body grew larger, more muscular.

Dhoruba watched the transformation with unbelieving eyes and forced himself to stare at the eyes, eyes which were no longer the dark violet purple color everyone feared he would inherit or Dhoruba himself had feared his son and or daughter would inherit. It was another reason he was thankful to Rahimu – for sparing his children such frighteningly colored eyes. He wasn't sure what he would've done if Jibade and Mpenzi's eyes were that of his father's.

It wasn't just the nightmares of what he did that plagued him. His father's eyes did too, looking down at him as if he had no business existing, let alone having the same colored body and mane color as he. His father's eyes looked down at him in complete displeasure, in revelry as he ran his claws down on him when he failed to do something right the first time. Eyes that flashed with so much disappointment it seemed to radiate off him.

What he was staring at now was not his father. And the eyes were no longer violet purple. They were completely red, all the way around. This… whatever it could be called flashed his teeth at him, and Dhoruba was deeply sickened, barely able to resist the urge to throw up. The lion's teeth were gray; a thin layer of blood covered them. When he spat on the ground just near his paws, the spittle of blood turned black, melting into the grass.

Fear filled Dhoruba in that moment. His father was gone, as if he was never here and Dhoruba threw his head up to the sky, blinked his eyes against the still pounding rain. His heart hammered in his chest, pounding so hard it ached and nearly forced him to his stomach.

Before he could utter a word, this strong looking, completely black colored lion smiled. Blood seeped from his mouth and hung onto his lower jaw before falling into the grass with a soft _plop_. It was followed by another until the ground near and underneath the black lion was completely covered. And it spread, heading for Dhoruba who backed up, slowly at first, then a little faster. The lion walked forward, smiling, drool continuing to pool out of his mouth, down his jaw and chin, landing on the ground as he moved. His tail swished behind him. His eyes narrowed but he didn't speak.

Heart beating, pounding, paining him so hard Dhoruba struggled to breathe. The rain intensified, much like it did the day he killed his father, mother and the members of his old pride. As if these scenarios weren't bad enough, he could hear them now – the echoes of the dead, those he killed, their pleas for mercy, for him to spare their sons, daughters, sisters and mothers. That they would do anything he asked, wanted and they would treat him better if he would only let the ones they loved most so dearly live. All their words, their cries crashed down on him, forcing him, at last, to his stomach. He shut his eyes and then dared to look ahead. The black lion kept coming, intently, and the look in his red eyes was malicious, malevolent, unbending, uncaring.

Dhoruba felt his right forepaw touch the blackness and he flinched, beginning to scamper away but it was no use. It, and the host who created it, kept on coming. Dhoruba knew there was nowhere he could run. Where he was… He braced himself and called out in a loud, shaking, fearful voice, "Rahimu! My Lord! Have mercy on me!" Hot tears escaped his eyes, pushing their way out, landing and rolling down his face.

The black lion, hearing this frantic call, growled and laughed. "You're actually calling on Lord Rahimu? And you're begging him for _mercy_?"

Dhoruba had never been so fearful in his life. Was this really a dream, or was this real? Was this the end for him? He wanted to call out for Kesha, but knew deep down it would do no good, nor would calling for Rasuli, let alone Akanni. It was just him. Him and this black lion, but… Was he really a lion?

The black figure spoke again, his voice taunting. "You're supposed to be the son of a King, a descendant of Kings and you behave like this? Pathetic! Your father should have killed you and started anew, maybe not with the lioness you called a mother, but with another."

A small amount of fury rose in Dhoruba and he growled.

The lion heard. "Aww, did I offend you and your poor mother? I'm so sorry." He revealed his blood stained teeth, running his tongue along the top row.

"Rahimu, if you're there, help me!"

Thunder was his only reply.

"Nice try, but I think your God has abandoned you."

He stuttered, stammered, "No… n-no, no, no… No!" He let out a tremendous roar, one that shook the now black ground beneath his paws. His body felt weak and he cried out in pain as the menacing black lion raised a paw, claws out, and ran them as deeply as he could across Dhoruba's face. He threw his head to the side, wincing in agony. Blood dripped down his face. He tried to blink. Only one eye responded. The other… Pain gripped him again as he realized his right eye was gone. He growled lowly and weakly tried to swing at the black lion with his own paw but couldn't. Blood seeped into his mouth and he gagged at the taste. He threw up then, retching as much as his body would allow. Was he going into shock?

The lion smiled and laughed without mirth. "Oh yes, the One you rely on so much doesn't want anything to do with a creation of his who commits regicide and genocide. To Him you're expendable, maybe even worthless, not fit to be given a second chance, let alone relief from your own demons and the intentions you carried against your father and mother." He walked around Dhoruba and breathed in his agony. It was so delicious. Then, bit by bit he racked his claws on him again until blood pooled beneath and all over Dhoruba's body.

He stopped and stepped back to admire his work, a smile of satisfaction crossing his features. His lips pulled back to reveal his teeth and the blood like saliva that oozed and fell in plenty of drool onto the wounded lion's already bloodied form.

"W-w…"

An ear flickered. "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you, could you repeat that?"

"W-why are you d-doing… t-this?" Dhoruba managed to say, his voice cracked and hoarse. His maned throat revealed a deep wound, life threatening. He couldn't even swallow. Blood continued to pour, as if making a small pool. His paws were covered in it.

The lion snarled and ran his claws down on Dhoruba again. This time, he didn't even make a sound. He had nothing left, which was beginning to disappoint the lion who rolled his eyes for the first time in sheer annoyance.

"You don't need to know. It would make my job less… satisfying." He lowered his head down to his victim, staring into the one good eye. If one could call the last remaining way of seeing your tormentor with three scars above, below, and three scars from one side to the other. Then he stepped back and surveyed his work. He sniffed the air, never so pleased to smell the scent of new blood in the air and wished he could taste it. He bowed his head and bit into Dhoruba's mangled shoulder. This time, the lion did roar out and it was the sweetest sound the black colored male heard tonight and relished in.

His teeth were once again stained in blood and he looked down to see Dhoruba losing consciousness. "Oh, don't die on me now. We're going to have a lot more fun!"

Thunder sounded loudly and lightning illuminated the area and the skies above.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Dhoruba wasn't certain if he was screaming or not, or if he had even woken the others. His body had tightened, his chest causing him great pain, and he forced himself to pull out of this soul stripping nightmare. His head shot upward, his eyes wild and darting all around. His face appeared as though he had seen Death itself personified. But he must have in the dream. What else could that figure have been?

Without turning to see if Kesha was asleep or awake and staring at him with concern he got up and walked out. He sat on his haunches and bowed his head. His black colored mane clung to his shoulders, his face, and he closed his eyes, trying to force himself to stop shaking and or trembling. It was as if he had no control of the internal workings of his own body. Maybe he didn't, at least not this time.

This dream was so different from the others he'd had previously. The air was humid but he felt cold inside and out. He was also numb, shaken and he looked up at the sky. There were no stars, none that he could see, and from all appearances there was no moon either. Darkness was all around him and it made him afraid.

He looked to the right and then to the left. How long had it been since he, Kesha, and Akanni said a silent goodbye to the Western Plains, since he and Kesha said goodbye to their son and daughter? How many days had they been out of the kingdom? And how many more would it take for Rasuli to finally lead him and Akanni to their home of birth? What exactly was his plan for Dhoruba and the young redmaned male to find peace with their shared but equally painful past?

Another tremor shook him. He was afraid to return, afraid of what he would find, see, and remember. He didn't want to continue but no matter how many times he tried to fight it the end result was the same. It had to be done. He had to make peace with the ghosts of his former life and put his nightmares to rest once and for all for the sake of his family and himself.

Dhoruba had no idea where they were now, not that it mattered. Though he had been part of a kingdom of lions, lionesses and other animals for the last several seasons of his life he never forgot what it was like living without community or responsibility. They traveled during the day. Dhoruba was always on the alert, sniffing the air from time to time, making sure they would not encounter rogue coalitions, and if he so much as smelled a group he informed Rasuli that they should walk faster, run at times, or change course altogether.

He still had no idea how Rasuli could possibly know where he was going but he forced himself not to question the old lion. It would do him no good and the last thing he wanted was make the much older male angry and, in turn, reignite Akanni's hatred for him. The two had not talked alone since Dhoruba's vocal admittance to his crimes with Akanni standing not too far away.

That moment would always haunt him, the look in the younger lion's eyes, the horror, the shock and ultimately the rage. It was the same rage he had felt when he confronted his father for the last time, only to tear out his throat once all words between them ceased.

If Dhoruba was honest with himself he just wanted this whole thing to be over with. He wanted to return home and continue his reign in peace without being haunted by his past. He wanted to be able to establish a relationship with Akanni without seeing the look of disgust on the other lion's face. In truth the longer they stayed out here the more his doubts about Rasuli's plan continued to increase. He worried he was being led to something else.

He was also worried about Kesha who had never been out of the Western Plains in her life. The moment the four of them stepped out of the Plains' borders he moved close to his mate and whispered, "Stay close to me. I don't want us to be too far away from each other."

She looked at him with appreciation and admiration for his want to keep her safe and licked his cheek, purring, "Thank you."

The only time he did allow Kesha out of his sights – not that he had much of choice – was when she and Akanni hunted. Even then he was fearful, afraid she would get hurt. But Kesha was an experienced huntress and knew the dangers involved as well as him or Akanni and Rasuli. It was either hunt or die from starvation and Dhoruba had that experience when he was unable to catch a good meal. Akanni did too, of that he was certain whether the young lion admitted it aloud or to himself when he thought no one else could hear.

Dhoruba sighed deeply, tiredly. He was almost desperate for this to be over! He wanted to be in his homeland already, find what Rasuli was so intently promising him, and go home! He missed Jibade and Mpenzi, Kesha did too. And he was certain that Akanni was missing Johari.

He shivered in the warm air, his body still unbearably cold. The nightmare had shaken him to his core, more than all the others. From the moment they left the Western Plains his dreams of what he'd done became frequent without ceasing every single night. During the day he wondered how he was able to walk, let alone eat of the kills Akanni and Kesha brought down and back to wherever they stayed in the afternoons and evenings. He was glad no one questioned him. Kesha did, but not with words, just her eyes. Eyes he knew well. She could speak loud and clear with those pools of dark blue orbs. Their depth was amazing and more often than not, especially since they left, he allowed himself to nearly drown in them. He shrugged and shivered again.

"Unable to sleep?" asked a soft voice.

One of his ears flickered; he wasn't sure which but a smile filled his face. His heart beat with relief and the appreciation he felt. From out of the corner of his eye he saw her come and sit beside him. He nuzzled her, his heart giving off fluttering beats when she returned the gesture.

"You could say that," he murmured softly as he pulled away, staring up at the pitch black sky again.

"Another nightmare?" she said. It wasn't a question, but an observation.

He didn't reply or nod his head. His lack of movement and vocal silence was enough to confirm her suspicions. Whenever he left her side during the night it was either to get a drink from a waterhole or take care of nature's call for relief. In those instances he left to do one, or both, and immediately returned to her side. But this… this was different and she had studied his nightly routines over the years.

When he started having the strange nightmares, before he remembered his past, she studied him even more and soon began to recognize his patterns for staying out longer than usual. The first time he'd had a nightmare and left her side, left the pride's cave she hadn't thought a thing about it, but when he did not return for a good amount of time she went looking for him. That time she did ask what was wrong and he responded in kind, giving her the basics because he himself did not know the full reason. Not back then. Not the second time, or the third time or any other time after that.

After having a nightmare he did not always leave her side. The only times he did was when the nightmares got really bad, like when he felt he was going to suffocate on the outside because inwardly he felt trapped in some kind of thick fog that he could not get out of, let alone see a few steps ahead of him. Those were the times when he was really scared but still reluctant to go to Ibada for sleeping herbs. Those were the times when he asked himself if it would be stupid idea if he forwent sleep so not to dream, only to decide that yes, it was a stupid idea and a dangerous thing to even consider. Not to mention that it was unhealthy and would make Kesha worry about him more. He ultimately decided he couldn't do that to her or himself.

"They're getting worse," he heard himself tell her in a quiet, almost hushed voice. Another tremor grabbed him. He shook and sensed Kesha move closer to him, laying her head on his mane covered shoulder. He heard her purr. Emotion filled him at the sweet sound.

"Dhoruba," she whispered, nuzzling him. She was afraid he would say that. Though he did not have any dreams since he told her, their grown cubs, the guardians and their family, not to mention Ibada, about his past it appeared as though his dreams had either stopped or were giving him a breather because he finally spilled what he had done to his old pride and his parents. She wasn't sure what to say, if anything could be.

He couldn't blame her. He wasn't sure either, but he was grateful than she could ever know for her company.

Kesha wanted to ask him if he wanted to return home and then chastised herself for the thought. She knew what his answer would be, but there still doubts in the back of her mind. Questions she feared the answer to because the one animal who could answer any question she had was asleep in the far back of the very cave he had found for them. The old lion whose name the spirit in her told her means 'messenger'. Part of her trusted him, part of her didn't, and any hope her mate and Akanni had of getting through the past and moving forward for good rested on Rasuli's promise.

Since leaving the Western Plains she prayed to the resting soul of her father that she had followed her instincts when she decided to join Dhoruba on this quest. She loved him too much to let him risk and place his life in the paws of a lion neither of them really knew. Her heart ached for Dhoruba. Deep down she believed in the possibility of his dreams returning and increasing in their ferocity the closer they got to his homeland.

The further on they went the more she knew he was wrestling with who he once was to the lion he had been for the last several seasons. The lion her father had guided and taught the ways of Rahimu, the lion who fathered her, _their_, son and daughter. The lion she loved so much she would never have another for as long as she lived or chosen for another if she were given the opportunity and chance. Dhoruba was her one-time love and to not be with him when there was a possibility he would need her was something she would without doubt regret every day they would be apart.

At last she found her voice and hoped her words were, if not right, then at least soothing. "You'll get through this, Dhoruba. You know you have me to lean on."

For a moment he grew stiff, then nodded once, looking down at her out of the corner of his eye. She removed her head from its spot on his shoulder and looked up at him. Light gray colored eyes met dark navy blue. Their faces reflected and Dhoruba put his chin on top of her head, running it down the back of her neck.

"Thank you," was all he said, all he needed. She accepted that and reached up, licking his cheek.

Within a few of their own heartbeats they returned to the cave to sleep. Dhoruba did not dream again.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

His acceptance into the Western Plains made him feel the loss of Shabihi all over again, but as the days rolled by, the pain of her absence lessened. He knew she was in a better place, reunited with her sister, his blood mother, and the lionesses of the pride. He'd known she would have loved it in the Western Plains, and had to wonder how she would have reacted upon knowing that King Dhoruba was the same lion who had forced them from their home.

He ran the conversation they would have had about the matter in his head over and over, but it always ended the same – Shabihi expressed her anger, her disappointment. Then, like always, she saw Rahimu working His… way in every aspect. She would say it was necessary to find healing, forgiveness and mercy, that the Dhoruba they were seeing, the words that came from his mouth, and the interactions he had with his mate, son and daughter, was nothing like the Dhoruba they had known or she had known, several years before, that they were different. She would say that something happened to Dhoruba after all he had done and say that it was Rahimu's will.

The very idea that those were the words she'd used always caused him to smile, both in acceptance and slight bitterness. It was at the end of these never-would-be conversations' that he felt at peace because she would be right, and in turmoil because he believed he did not have it in him to admit it.

Since leaving the Western Plains, going to where he was born and raised for a time the occasional pain he once had over losing Shabihi increased dramatically. The first night of the journey he rarely slept and moved himself away from Rasuli and the King and Queen. Every night after that he forced himself to sleep in a place only for him so he wouldn't have to be near either of the two lions or the lioness. Trust was a fragile thing and he knew that from personal experience, and as much as he admired Queen Kesha he still didn't trust her. In fact, there were only a small few of lions he trusted and they were at the Western Plains. As much as he missed Shabihi, he missed those few in the kingdom just as much, a lioness in particular. He often thought of her, wondered how she was and the situation regarding her only brother.

Sometimes before surrendering to sleep after a long day of walking and hunting in the afternoon with Queen Kesha he would send a prayer of hope for Johari and her family. He even asked Rahimu to say hi to Shabihi and his mother for him out of good measure and because it felt good to add that, thinking the two lionesses who loved him so much, one enough to sacrifice her life for his, the other to raise him as her own until her own death, were watching over him from their places in the heavens. Such a thought gave him peace, near quenching the fear of returning to the lands of his birth.

Upon leaving the Western Plains Akanni forced himself to fall back into the patterns Shabihi had taught him. It proved easier than he thought. He was alert, observant and wary of where they went, even offering their guide advice on which ways were safer (he knew Dhoruba was doing the same and while annoyed he didn't care too much.), the most populated places to hunt for food, leading the Western Plains' Queen to the best places to watch their intended prey. If he was honest with himself, the one thing that gave him any sort of comfort and escape from their destination was the hunt. He loved it, the rush of adrenaline and the fierce feel of his heart beating in his chest. Not to mention the excitement upon taking down a gazelle, a zebra, or even a small antelope that was just for him when he didn't feel like eating with the rest of them which was now and again.

On those nights when he couldn't sleep he looked at the stars and thought about his time with Shabihi. He knew she would have approved of him taking this journey. She would have said the same things Johari had before he left and it would have been just as easy and slightly troubling for him to agree.

Akanni wasn't sure how many days passed, but out here it didn't matter and he didn't bother to keep track of the days, wasn't sure if the King was either.

More often than not he shuddered to think that Dhoruba was having flashbacks of his time in such openness as he was. Aside from memories and dreams of the massacre that was one of the few things they shared, had in common. It sickened him to think or admit that he had anything in common with Dhoruba. He wasn't sure if he could accept it.

The more Rasuli continued to lead them, sometimes under and through thick foliage, grassy areas, or places that felt like it could rain at any given moment the more he feared he was wasting his time. Would Rasuli's plan for him and the King even work? Would they find peace? How would this peace be achieved? And would it give him what he so deeply and desperately wanted?

Akanni thought that when he settled in to the Western Plains kingdom, its pride, that he would never set paw outside the borders of a ruled land again. Now that he had he was split between the lion this – and the death of his blood mother – had made him, and the lion he enjoyed being in the Plains before he learned the truth about King Dhoruba. As the days went on, part of him wanted to ask after Dhoruba but his hatred for the older lion and what he had done prevented it. If he was honest with himself he wished they were there already and that it was over.

On one particular day, or night, after hunting and filling his belly with some good zebra meat, Akanni stretched, arched his back and left his sleeping place underneath a tree and walked over to a waterhole. He drank deeply, licked his maw, water dropping from his chin and whiskers and stared up at the night sky, his red eyes shining a little. There were no stars, just the moon, but even that made this place Rasuli had insisted they stop to rest caused him unease. He shivered in the warm air. Places like this reminded him of his cubhood. He and Shabihi had done much of what he was doing with these older adults – walking, hunting, and resting.

It seemed a never-ending cycle, one for him that only stopped when he joined the pride of Western Plains' lions. It was a cycle that came back a little too easily. He missed the place he called home, wanted nothing more than to go back.

The warmth was unbearable and seemed to cling to his body. Even his mane stuck to his head, his neck and shoulders. He felt like he was going to suffocate so he plunged his head into the water for relief. His body ached. He pulled his head back and shook his mane, water scattering everywhere.

"You might want to be careful the next time you do that. If anyone is near they probably won't be so kind to having water fall on them."

The redmaned lion's red hazel eyes widened in slight horror and he whirled himself around, front legs splayed out, his tail limp. He swallowed. "My lady, forgive me!" he said, bowing his head as low as he could, his chin touching the ground.

The royal lioness smiled warmly. "Raise your head, Akanni. I was just teasing." She shook her head a little. The water had sunk into her fur, not that she minded. It was rather warm. The warmest night she ever encountered. Clearly the young lion in front of her needed a small escape from it, just as she had, which was why she welcomed the sprayed water with ease and gentle humor. She walked upward and sat not too far from him, pleased that he did not move away or leave altogether.

The two were quiet for a little while, looking at the night sky and down at the waterhole. Kesha took a drink, ran her tongue over her maw, weighed her words and spoke. "How are you, Akanni, really?"

A surprising question, but he was glad someone had. He couldn't expect such a thing from Dhoruba, didn't want to. "I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "Scared, I think." When she didn't make a noise to reply he thought it was safe to explain further. "Part of me wants to return to the Western Plains, another part wants to see this through to the end." He closed his eyes, speaking again before he could stop himself. "I want peace. I want to… remember my blood mother and adopted mother without remembering what –" He paused and stopped, knowing what he would say. He couldn't, not with the King's mate so near.

She understood his hesitation. "He regrets it. You may not know it now, but he does."

He gave a soft snort, flicked his head up a little. Inwardly he knew she was right but he couldn't admit it out loud.

Kesha continued, using her own soft, gentle words to try to get through to a young lion that lost everything at an early age thanks to her mate. "He wants peace too, same as you. He wants to sleep through the night without remembering. You have more in common than you know."

Anger rose in him, warming him on the inside as the air was on the outside. Fatigue crept up on him. He was tired and he forced himself to not say something rude to a lioness who was, in her own way, trying to help. He turned his head to her and attempted to give her a smile that did not betray how this short conversation was making him feel. How was it that the lionesses of the Western Plains, at least those he talked to, had the uncanny ability to get under a guy's fur? First Johari and now the Queen herself, so who was next when they returned Princess Mpenzi? He was glad to have 'escaped' her sinking her words into him. A young lioness he cared deeply for and the mate of the lion whose actions changed his life was more than enough, probably enough to last a lifetime if not more.

"Good night, Queen Kesha," he said, and without waiting for a reply the lion left, returning to his sleeping spot where he laid down to keep fighting his internal struggle.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Rasuli knew that deep down his charges still doubted him. If he were honest with himself a small part of himself doubted him. In those moments when he found himself alone, which only occurred when he needed a drink from a waterhole or needed to relieve himself he forced his mind to reconcile himself that someone else was at work, that he was as his name suggested the messenger. It was all he was. All he had ever been, just the messenger, carrying out someone else's orders.

He prayed nightly that he would succeed in bringing the King and the redmaned male to the place of their births. He still didn't know what would happen once they arrived. He just had orders to take those in his care to the borders of the lands, nothing else. The rest was up to King Dhoruba and Akanni. He wasn't even sure where Dhoruba's mate fit in to all this and he wasn't about to ask. He wondered if there was something else, something he had not been told. But he always shrugged off the thought.

After stopping for an afternoon and leading them to places to sleep and getting a much needed drink of water to soothe his parched throat he would see the dead carcass the Queen and Akanni brought down and dragged back. It was him who always prayed. For the success of the two lions' hunt, that they had emerged without harm or incident and for the soul or spirit of the animal one of them had killed.

Since the journey began he rarely spoke to anyone, or they to him. Not that he minded. He only talked when it was absolutely necessary. But he knew that Dhoruba and Kesha were exchanging words even when they thought no one was looking. On one late evening Rasuli was unable to sleep and inadvertently walked across the two royals who appeared to be in low and hushed conversation. Rasuli kept his steps as slow and as silent as possible so as not to intrude. His ears were pressed to the side of his head to keep himself from hearing the words spoken between the two. Whatever they talked about wasn't any of his business but his heart went out to whatever was bothering one or both of them. He could only imagine how hard this was for them.

Silently and soundlessly encountering that was all the more reason he was glad that he wasn't the type to interfere in personal matters. He knew his heart and mind couldn't take it – the emotions alone would be too much, the struggle for a solution unbearable. It was when he found Dhoruba and Kesha that night he was glad to be who he was and created to be. In those times he was thankful to Rahimu and often addressed it out loud only when he was alone.

Days came and went, night lingered but just for a time, and he continued to lead them. They were getting close. He could feel it. He could also feel the anxiety and nerves coming from his lion charges. He envied them but he was also grateful not to feel as they did. The atmosphere, whether it was day or early night, and their surroundings, grew darker. The blades of grass under their paws were tall, reaching up to the group's elbows and the entire area, stretching for as far as the eye could see, maybe farther than that, was filled with tall trees and vines connecting one tree and another. But no monkeys swung from the vines. There were no chirping sounds of birds. Everything was eerily quiet.

In spite of himself Rasuli shivered, knew his traveling companions were too. How could they not, and with such a feeling he knew they were so close he could almost smell the odor that still seemed to hang around, the very smell that kept any future group of pride lions and lionesses away.

He wasn't sure how many more days they had until they finally reached it, but he felt it in his spirit that they were close. _Two… maybe three, or four,_ he thought to himself. His ears perked up and he turned his head back to look at them, as he always did, letting them know he would go on ahead to look for a place for them all to sleep. Upon seeing that, Dhoruba, Kesha and Akanni milled about, Akanni looking for a waterhole while the royal couple decided to walk around the area.

In no time at all Rasuli returned. "There's a cave not too far from here. I'll take you to it after we've eaten."

They were all hungry, Rasuli too, and Kesha and Akanni hunted, bringing down a wildebeest. Night was quick to fall. They'd stopped in mid-afternoon and everyone was tired. After the meal, they went into the cave. Rasuli slept in the far back, Akanni in the middle, Dhoruba and Kesha near the front. If anyone wondered how they managed to avoid any rogue coalition, there were no questions. In their spirits they believed Rahimu was protecting them somehow, watching over them, as if He wanted this journey to be successful.

While Rasuli slept he heard a voice that had not spoken to him in what felt like an eternity.

_You will arrive in two days._

The old lion's eyes opened and he raised his head, peering into the darkness until he was certain that his gaze was on the sleeping King of the Western Plains and former Prince of a barren wasteland. His ears went back. Dhoruba had not been looking well, and Rasuli was quick to see that the ruler was suffering from terrible dreams. He sent a silent prayer for him and went back to sleep.

_So just two days left?_ He prayed for strength. Dhoruba and Akanni would need it.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

The early morning air was wet, and it sank into his fur.

Jibade shook his mane to ward off the chill and the urge to shiver as he sat on the stone his parents occupied when one or both of them couldn't sleep. One time he saw his father sprawled out and managed to squeeze his small cub body between the large lion's forepaws. Another time it had been his mother and Mpenzi was lying just near her.

Jibade heard himself sigh. He missed them. Mpenzi did too. How long had it been since they left? He knew well that his parents' absence was no game, but a matter of moving on and saying goodbye to a very painful past. His father needed it, and so did Akanni.

Before they walked across the border Jibade promised to look after the kingdom and the pride.

"I'm still not sure what you want me to tell them. But I won't let you down. Return home safely, and at peace." He head bumped his father and nuzzled his mother, not minding when she licked his cheek. Mpenzi mentioned something about the hunting parties and gave their parents the same affectionate gesture.

Jibade had moved toward Akanni then, staring at the older male who appeared hesitant, reluctant, and anxious. He didn't need words to know the redmaned lion and Johari had already said goodbye. No doubt it had been a private thing, just a simple silent matter. Jibade knew that words weren't always needed to communicate with someone you love. Just standing, sitting, or lying beside them was more than enough. But looking into Akanni's red hazel eyes he had to speak, to ease the other lion's fears and concerns. Both had filled his face and eyes.

"Don't worry about Johari. I will make sure that she's okay." His voice dropped low. "And that Hadhari stays away from her."

Akanni gave a firm short nod at that, and Jibade walked to Rasuli. The old lion thanked him for his kindness and said how unlikely his return would be. "You're going to make a fine King one day."

Jibade smiled, glanced at his parents, and looked Rasuli straight in the eyes. "Take care of them."

"You have my word."

They left after that, and Jibade felt the weight of regency. He had been more than happy to accept it and rule in his parents' absence, but upon seeing their forms disappear out of the Plains, the first burden he felt at being Prince Regent was how to tell the pride. The rulers and the other two lions had chosen to leave early, long before the sun rose. It was a good idea, not just for them, but him as well. It had given him time to think and discuss ideas with Mpenzi on the way back, which they did.

When the lionesses and the guardians began to come out of the pridal cavern, he called them all together and prepared for the questions that would follow. "Where are the King and Queen?"

If they noticed the absence of Akanni and Rasuli, they didn't appear too concerned, considering neither lion had been part of the pride very long. But it would be so easy for them to fear the worst.

Jibade stared at them. Glancing at his sister, and setting his eyes on Bukua and his family for a short moment, he took a deep breath, prayed silently, and began.

"You all know that my father was not born in the Western Plains and that he was found passed out on the borders several years ago by our lead guardian Bukua. Bukua made a critical decision that day, and what he did gave this kingdom a King, and your then heiress a mate. Their union birthed me and my twin sister."

He paused, looking at Mpenzi with a smile. She returned it and he faced the pride once more. "But it wasn't just Bukua who made a decision upon finding my father. It was also your last King, Amri, who allowed Dhoruba to stay in this pride, and Amri thought of him like a second son. He did so without questioning Dhoruba's past. Maybe he didn't want to know. Or maybe he knew that wherever Dhoruba came from had nothing to do with the life he was beginning to make here. I'm sure if Amri were alive today he would tell you the same."

A long pause, a long wait until one lioness in front of the assembled pride spoke. Her voice was soft, respectful and curious. "Prince Jibade, your grandfather was a wise lion, a great King, and so is your father whom I know we all love and honor. It's just…" She looked down, her ears going back a little. "With all respect, he's not been acting like himself. He appears tired all the time, and lately your mother has been taking up some of his duties."

Jibade blinked. "You're right. My father has been tired, and my mother has been seeing the animals. I have too." He sighed deeply. "The reason my father has not been himself is because he's been dreaming of the land he was born in."

Quickly, he turned to Mpenzi. The look in her blue eyes told him to go on. His throat nearly constricted, but he swallowed the lump that threatened to stop him. "My father wasn't just a rogue, he was born a Prince. His father was a cruel, fearful lion who ruled his pride with a hard, threatening paw. He was a tyrant, and wanted my father to be exactly like him. But my father was different, kind, gentle, the lion we all know. His father hated that and tried beating it out of him from the time he was a cub. My father's mother, the Queen, did nothing to help. She was too afraid of her mate as were the pride of lionesses. No one dared cross the King. Growing up my father had no one, and as much as he tried to treat others with respect, the King's temper and disappointment increased."

Unbidden, an image of Dhoruba killing his father entered Jibade's mind. He willed it gone. "One day, my father could no longer take the abuse and left." The young royal watched their eyes. No one spoke or moved. "What choice did he have? If he had stayed he would have done something drastic." Jibade could feel his sister's eyes on him. He refused to look in the direction of Bukua and his family.

Before the lionesses could murmur, Jibade said in a slightly loud voice, "Unable to live up to his father's unreasonable expectations, no longer able to stand the abuse my father did what he thought was best. Every paw that was raised to strike him down, he believed there was a strong chance that the cycle of pain and harsh ruling could be repeated in him. He didn't want that so he did the only thing he could. If he hadn't…" Jibade sighed, pain filling his heart. "If he hadn't he wouldn't be the lion he is now. The lion Amri taught him to be."

The lionesses all looked at each other, some nodding in silence, others speaking quietly. "He has good point," said one.

"Would any of us have done the same?" asked another.

"Everyone has a past."

It went on, until a lioness with light brown fur, and gentle slightly dark green eyes in front asked, "Where are your parents, highness, and Akanni and Rasuli?"

It was a question Jibade expected. He took another breath, without glancing at Mpenzi this time. But her heart was out to him. He felt it. "The lion Rasuli is a guardian of my father's old pride. He said that he was sent by the Queen herself to find my father and bring him back. Rasuli has been searching for him for a long time, roaming from kingdom to kingdom. He couldn't say anymore than that."

The same lioness asked, "Will your father leave the Western Plains to rule in the land of his birth?"

Jibade sighed again, but couldn't let his slight frustration show. He also couldn't blame this lioness, or any of them for their questions. He wondered himself, but for different reasons. "I'm not sure. The only way we will know, for absolute certainty, is when they return. As to why Akanni left… my father asked him to go for extra protection. After all, Akanni is younger and stronger. My mother went because she couldn't see leaving her mate to something that would be both familiar and strange." He shrugged. "I suppose my father has left on this mission to reconcile with his past, his father, and find peace. Amri's teachings helped him outwardly. Returning to his old home, and whatever decision he makes while there, will help him on the inside. Until their return, do you accept me as your Regent?"

He stared at them, the lionesses, the guardians and Mpenzi. The lionesses looked downward, bowing their heads. Bukua and his family were next. Mpenzi was quick to follow. Jibade felt a smile cross his face and thought about his future coronation. It would be far grander than this display, which was only temporary.

No one argued with his words. No one found fault in what he had to say. He knew that while there was still some confusion, the lionesses wouldn't question as long as there was someone of royal blood, or someone the royals trusted to lead, care and provide for them.

In all the time of his kingship, Dhoruba had never given any reason for them to doubt him. He was there when they needed him, but when he started to appear exhausted they backed off, going to Kesha with their problems, whatever they were. While none of them knew the stresses of taking care of a land or a pride, they respected and admired Dhoruba for his tireless service. Many knew the past could be hard to move on from. Nearly all the lionesses gathered descended from the group who joined the first King, whose pasts were far from peaceful, who never had such an opportunity. If it were any one of the lionesses, or the guards, Dhoruba would have let them resolve their past if he thought it would bring closer and peace.

Jibade startled and trembled.

How many days had it been? Had they arrived at his father and Akanni's old home yet? Were they safe? He refused to ask such questions to anyone. Mpenzi couldn't either. This was just as hard on her, though a small feeling of pride went through him as he thought of her now. His twin sister wasn't the cub who teamed up with Nasila to play tricks on him and Hadhari. She had fully come into herself, not just as a grown, mature lioness, but a daughter of the Western Plains, a descendant of Kings and Queens. She was responsible, careful, gentle and selfless.

According to the older lionesses she was leading them with the grace, dignity, and strategic way of her mother. He was glad she had found herself a permanent place in the pride by doing something she loved, and it was obvious she had the lionesses respect. She'd earned it through her natural talent of hunting and hard work to prove that she was just as good as her mother. Jibade couldn't argue with that. They'd hunted together recently and he saw for himself just how good she was, that their mother's training had done its work.

The wet morning air sank into his mane, near soaking him all the way to the skin under his fur. He shivered and moved his forepaws slightly as he slowly lay down on the stone, his forelegs dangling over the edge just like his father. Since their departure he never stopped praying for their safe return, for his father and Akanni to finally find peace from their painful past.

He hoped Akanni could find it in some part of himself to forgive Dhoruba. He had never experienced such hatred for anyone, never wanted to, but he knew what it was like to hate, if only just a little. He understood the whole situation, but couldn't condone it. Understanding was needed, and it pleased him to know that Mpenzi felt the same. There was no question in Jibade's mind that the guardians, aside from Hadhari, were in the same group.

His ears flickered; his heart beat profusely in his chest. Then he blinked, seeing a change in the sky above and the horizon straight ahead. There was a beautiful light. The sun was rising. He rose to his paws, sitting as straight as he could, smiling. A new day had come, though the Regent in him dreaded it.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

He laughed softly and moved to make room as his sister sat down beside him. They shared a quick nuzzle. "Morning, Mpenzi. How are you?"

"Well rested, all things considered, but the real question is, how are _you_?"

He was never one to lie, though the temptation had taken hold more than once and would again. But this was his sister, and if Nasila had asked him that… He looked down, his gaze uncertain and flexed his forepaws as he said, "I'm worried. About Mom, Dad, Akanni, and…" He paused. "I guess what worries me most, especially now, is how Uncle Taraji's going to take this. Please tell me he's still sleeping?"

Their mother's only brother, a King himself in a neighboring land, had arrived the day before with two of his guards. Upon exchanging welcomes and other pleasantries Jibade said that his parents needed some time alone and would not return to the pridal cave until the very next day. He thought it would give him enough time, and his uncle took it in stride, but it could only last so long. His free day had come and with the sun beginning to rise it was gone. He didn't want to tell his uncle the truth, but instead tell the older lion what he'd told the pride. Such a tactic wouldn't work. His uncle was a King, had been trained in the way of how to respond and treat others. And there was Jibade's mother who his uncle always delighted in seeing. Taraji was owed the truth, no matter how painful it's telling.

Jibade pawed the ground, thankful that his cousins and aunt had not come with Taraji on this journey. "Yes, he is," the Prince heard his sister say.

Mpenzi nudged her brother, and when he didn't reply or look at her she eyed him. "You know you can't stall him forever. When Mom and Dad don't come –" She stopped at that, biting her tongue. He knew all this and was agonizing about it which would explain his being out here in the first place. "Sorry," she said quickly.

"It's okay. I know you're right." He sighed, setting his eyes on the horizon again. The sun had risen. The lands were filled with its light, and as much as he wanted to feel warm he couldn't. The animals grazed without a care in the world, or so he hoped. "I don't want to tell him, but I have to. He'll see right through me if I tell him anything else."

"Yes, he probably will."

He gave her an astonished look. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

She shrugged. "Okay, how about this. What if I'm there with you when you tell him?"

"Are you sure? We've never seen him angry, and this could set him off."

"Yes, it could, and yes, I'm sure. We are brother and sister, Jibade. You shouldn't have to carry the full weight of this on your shoulders by yourself. Share it with me. And when or should, Uncle Taraji express his anger and displeasure, whatever he says won't be directed just at you."

Jibade shook his head, pleased and shocked that she would even offer. "No, no, I couldn't ask you to do that."

She nudged him again and reached up, nipping his ear. "You're not asking, I'm offering, there's a difference."

He growled softly. "Okay, okay, you can help." He raised a paw and ran it along his left ear. "You haven't done that to me since we were adolescents."

"You needed it. It was the only way I could get you to see that my idea is good."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh I thought it was good anyway. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"We're twins, and even if we weren't, we're still blood. We have to help each other."

"Well, in that case I couldn't ask for a better sister."

"And I couldn't ask for a better brother."

They were silent for a while, basking in the warmth and light of the sun, watching the animals, each lost in their own thoughts. "Do you think they're alright?" Mpenzi asked finally. She didn't have to be specific for Jibade to know that she was talking about their parents and Akanni.

_But mostly Mom and Dad…_ He turned to her, ears down and breathed deeply. The exhale made his body tremble. "I hope so."

They moved close to each other until Mpenzi's head was laying gently on Jibade's shoulder covered mane in sibling comfort.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

If this had been a regular, ordinary visit, Bukua would be glad to see his brothers. The three of them would spend the first day wandering the Plains, maybe play a game of who could wrestle who, which they had done at Ulan and Kato's last visit. There was never any serious talk, save for the usual "what's your life been since we all saw one another?"

After Ulan and Kato returned home with King Taraji and his family the last time, Bukua had made a mental reminder to ask Dhoruba when they could go to Taraji's lands, just to get away from home. But the reminder was quickly forgotten since the Western Plains did not have a strong guardianship like Taraji's kingdom. The absence of the royal family, not to mention Bukua and his, would leave the Western Plains and its pride vulnerable to rogue attack, infiltration and takeover. To leave knowing everything and everyone they loved would remain unsecure was a terrible risk; one Bukua could never take, so he purposefully forgot to ask.

Upon hearing Ulan's familiar roar when he, his twin, and their royal charge first arrived for this visit Bukua was happy. He missed them, but fear and dread replaced his happiness. He forced himself to tell them his plan the next day. He would use their arrival to catch up, let his daughters speak and spend some time with their uncles.

It wasn't until that late afternoon, Kato asked the question. "Where's Hadhari? I wanna see how much like you he's become!"

The second twin lion had said it with a smirk and playful roll of his eyes, but Bukua couldn't return the gesture. The mention of his son's name made his heart sink and he dreaded the coming conversation more. He was glad Ulan and Kato seemed oblivious to his plight, but Ajia wasn't. Seeing and sensing his worry and fear she nuzzled him, a gesture he returned with need. He slept hard that night, moving as close as he could to Ajia for comfort, who, having been awakened by him, laid her head on his mane, purring softly.

As much as he didn't want to ask this enormous favor of Ulan and Kato, he was pleased that he made the decision not to tell them about Dhoruba. So far, they hadn't asked. But they would and he silently prayed that Taraji would be the one to tell them. That, however, would depend on when Jibade told his uncle. Bukua didn't envy the young Prince; his heart went out to him. He even wished there was some way he could lessen Jibade's burden, but he had his own to deal with. Ulan and Kato were the answer; he hoped they were willing to take it. With Ajia's head on his mane he slept a little easier.

When he woke up it was to an empty guard cave. He shook his mane, rose, stretched, and walked out, searching for his family among the pride to no avail. Some of the lionesses bade him good morning. He repeated the phrase with a small smile and walked out of the den, going to the waterhole that wasn't too far from the caves. He took a long drink, plunging his head into the water soon after. The icy cold woke him up instantly.

"Rahimu," he prayed, water dripping from his mane, "please, help me get through this." He had no idea how long King Taraji would be staying. He had to act fast.

"Get you through what, big brother?" asked a voice.

Bukua shut his eyes and felt his heart pound hard in his chest, making his ribs hurt. He turned. Ulan and Kato were looking at him like he'd lost his mind, or hadn't slept. Did he really look as bad on the outside as he felt on the inside? Maybe he did. He shrugged, shaking his mane. His brothers looked stronger than the last time he'd seen them. They were either fighting with rogues on a daily basis, or they wrestled with each other and the rest of the guardians in their spare time. He wished he could join them in those matches. He'd been tempted to challenge Dhoruba to a wrestling bout at a time or two.

He jerked and met Ulan and Kato's slightly darker but still light green teal colored eyes. "I need to talk to you both about Hadhari." With that, he turned from the waterhole, shook his mane again, his body, and walked forward with the alert and serious stare of a guardian.

Ulan and Kato followed, looking at each other in concern. Whatever was going on with their nephew had to have been something for Bukua to give that facial expression.

Only when they were far enough away from the pridal cavern did their brother speak. His first words, the first sentence, made their ears rise. Bukua only told them what they most needed to hear: How Hadhari had become more than a little reckless while they patrolled.

"What do you mean by that?" Kato asked when the three stopped. He eyed his older brother skeptically. He'd always thought Hadhari to be a little too overprotective, a little too serious even as a cub, but the idea of him acting out seemed impossible. It wasn't.

Bukua began. "On one of our last patrols together, we encountered an old, sick looking rogue on the western side of the Plains. Instead of saying what all guardians are recommended to say upon seeing a stranger, he…" A lump filled his throat but he swallowed it back, feeling sick himself. "He just attacked." Bukua took that moment to glance at them. Ulan and Kato looked at one another, both of them unable or unwilling to speak. He turned his face away. The sick feeling grew. "The lion was unprepared, but Hadhari wasn't. He was relentless, and I did the only thing I could. I defended a harmless lion against my own son. As soon as I got Hadhari away and on his back, my paw against his throat, I spoke to the lion, asked if he was okay. He said he was, and on instinct I asked if he wanted to stay and rest for a day before moving on." Bukua bowed his head, his mane falling over his eyes. "He said no, he was alright, been in fights like that before, had no hard feelings, and with fresh claw marks on his face and one shoulder, walked away. I got off Hadhari and commanded him to go home. I finished the patrol myself."

Neither lion spoke for a while. Bukua kept his head down, his face away. What pained him most was that this story was true. It happened a few days ago, and he'd been too stunned and angry to even tell Jibade. He didn't want to burden the young lion anymore than he already was. After that Hadhari disappeared, and Bukua knew his son was going to turn up sometime today since he never stayed away for long. He told Ajia, Nasila and Johari yesterday morning that if Hadhari did return at anytime during the next few days, they were to keep him close.

Ulan and Kato were shocked. So much had changed since their last visit. How long had been, a year, maybe two? They had their lives in Taraji's kingdom, but if Bukua was having this kind of trouble with his son…

"How many times has this happened?" Ulan questioned with narrowed eyes.

Bukua carefully considered his answer. He couldn't tell them about Akanni because that would tempt him to mention Dhoruba. He made himself a promise regarding that and was going to keep it. "It's only been the one time. After that day, he hasn't been patrolling much, not at all."

"So he's putting it on you, Ajia, and your daughters?"

Bukua turned. "I have cheetah and leopard scouts in every part of the Western Plains. It's not just my family."

"Still, Hadhari is your son. You taught him to be a guard the same way Father taught the three of us, and we turned out pretty good. What he's doing is disrespectful and immoral, not to mention insulting to other guardians. It gives them, and our family, a bad name."

"You think I don't know that? It's killing me to see Hadhari act this way. I keep asking myself what I did wrong, and it's been just as hard on Ajia and my daughters. Talking with him is pointless. I tried, as have Nasila and Johari. He'll only ignore you."

Ulan stared, his paws moving against the grass, like he was containing his anger. "Then maybe he needs a firm –"

"I have been firm in talking –"

"I don't mean that. I mean firm discipline."

Bukua blinked and shook his head. "Explain," he said pointedly.

Ulan and Kato looked at each other with a knowing gaze, and Kato stepped up. "I think what he means is, how would you feel in allowing Hadhari to return with us?"

"What makes you think that would work?"

"Well, it's obvious that he doesn't care about the guardian rules here, but in Taraji's kingdom, he will, if not one way, then another. The guards don't mess around. We start training the males at the first sign of their manes coming in. And the few guards we have that are lionesses train the younger lionesses who don't want to join the hunting parties."

Together the twins talked of their guardian ways and how they managed to keep their father's ways while learning and teaching with the new. It was true that King Taraji's guards were harder and tougher, and the way they taught was through rigorous training, mental, physical. The guards are always on their paws, though the ones with a mate and cubs are given less rougher assignments and sent to their respective homes at sunset. The ones who didn't have such families were always put to the test, and if they passed it was a little easier and they could take time to adjust. The ones who didn't pass were very rare.

Bukua listened with interest. This is what he wanted, but he did not expect Ulan to suggest it in a slightly harsh way. He was glad Kato talked about it in a lighter tone than just outright demand this or that. Ulan was a bit of a hothead, but his years with the guards he lived and worked alongside had toughened him more than he was before he left. He was hardened inside and out.

"They're even given spiritual lessons too, which one of our shamans' help out with," Kato was saying. "They're taught the importance of Rahimu, and how He should be the most important thing in their lives whether they're on patrol or not. We also have the same, well… code, as the Western Plains does when it comes to dealing with strangers, and one another."

"Sounds like you all have balance," Bukua said, part of him wishing he had instilled more discipline into Hadhari. Had he somehow spoiled his son with too much freedom?

"We do," Ulan said. "And I firmly believe that Hadhari could benefit from this. Not only would he be disciplined in all of our guardian ways, he would be among lions who are just as troubled as he is."

"There are others?" Bukua asked, surprised.

"A few, yes, even a young lioness," Kato said. "While some of the adolescents don't go through these… confusing times, others do. And they are the ones Taraji, or their parents, ask us to help. We don't just serve the kingdom, or the King, we serve each other too."

"It gives them a sense or meaning of purpose, and that's what Hadhari needs," Ulan added, his voice not as harsh. "My guess is being around his family and those he grew up with affects him somehow. He thinks that at any moment someone he loves could be taken from him by a rogue and he wants to make sure that doesn't happen. So he goes after any unknown lion he sees." The first twin looked down. "While he hasn't killed anyone –"

"He hasn't!" Bukua snapped and then looked regretful at his quick, angry filled words. "Sorry. At least, I don't _think_ he has. When he disappears like this… that's when I worry." He paused, swallowed, then, "Do you really think you can help him?" He didn't care if he sounded desperate. These were his brothers, and this was his only son, who was, if not self-destructing yet then certainly would if he stayed in the lands of his family much longer.

The twin guards exchanged a quick stare and then looked back at their older brother. "Yes, we can," Kato answered with a stern, firm voice.

Bukua sighed with relief, the weight of son's actions, and the feelings of his own failure nearly off his shoulders. But a question filled his mind, had been haunting him since he first came up with this plan. "Do you think he will come with you?"

"There's only one way to find out," Ulan replied.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

As soon as Taraji came out of the den, Jibade and Mpenzi took him as far from the caves as they could.

"We need to talk to you alone, Uncle," said Mpenzi. "It's important."

The Southern King looked surprised and worried. He had expected to see his sister and her mate by the time he woke. With a slight shrug he met eyes with his niece and nephew. "All right, lead the way."

So they did, and after a while, the three stopped at a waterhole under an acacia tree. The sun was warm on their backs, the shade underneath the tree welcoming.

Taraji drank from the waterhole, raising his head just as quick, licking his maw. He faced the two young royals and sat on his haunches. "Okay, what's this all about?"

One more time, Jibade and Mpenzi glanced at each other, and Jibade looked to his uncle, letting out a deep breath while praying for strength. "I know you want to see Mom and Dad. But you won't. There's a strong chance you'll be gone before they come back."

The older male's eyes widened, his mouth fell open. "What do you mean 'come back'? Come back from where? Where are they?"

The siblings shared another glance, and Mpenzi answered. "They're gone, Uncle, back to Father's old pride. They left days ago and named Jibade Regent until their return."

"But h-how is that possible? Your father never _had_ a pride." Taraji's throat tightened. "H-he never told my father…" He swallowed back a lump, paused, closed his eyes and opened them again, staring hard into Jibade and Mpenzi's eyes. "What's going on? First you tell me that your parents needed some time away, and now you're saying that they've left the Western Plains entirely and won't be back until Rahimu knows when?"

They heard the edges of his temper beginning to show, and Mpenzi, once again, answered to try and soothe him. "Yes, Uncle, that is what we're saying." Her only reply was a low growl.

"If you'll let me explain?" said Jibade, and it wasn't a question. He stared at the King with narrowed eyes, a gesture he would never have used, but these were different circumstances. It was necessary.

When Taraji gave a deep nod, the Prince, newly turned Regent, began. The younger lion watched the elder as he talked about his father's old home, the King, the Queen, his cubhood, addressing his father as Prince Dhoruba the whole time. While talking, he watched his uncle whose expression had yet to change. Jibade knew Taraji was moving this information about his brother-in-law around in his head, trying to picture the deep darkened brown colored lion as a cub, born into a royalty that was so different from his and his sister.

Then Jibade talked of the abuse his father endured from the King and nearly choked. He picked up again, stuttering soon after. He shut his eyes.

Mpenzi helped, looking at her uncle with sad, gentle eyes. "It wasn't easy for Father. Everything he did, his father questioned it with his claws. No one helped, they were too afraid. Not even Father's mother, she'd have been punished too, and Father's old pride had no guardians. The only lions were royalty. But he managed somehow. He grew up, became strong, patrolled with the King." Her ears went back, her gaze fell. "Then one day, after being told not to mess up a patrol, he couldn't take it anymore. He…" Now it was her turn to pause.

Jibade, finding inner strength, continued for her. "Prince Dhoruba killed his own father, a King." He looked at his uncle. The other male's eyes were hard, slightly narrowed, and Jibade and Mpenzi took turns telling him about their father's bloodlust massacre.

After a while, they stopped and walked over to the waterhole. Their throats no longer hurting and quenched, they faced Taraji. When he didn't speak they looked at each other.

"Uncle Taraji?" Mpenzi asked softly. The Princess shivered. The air wasn't cold, but her uncle's lack of response was chilling.

A long silence filled the atmosphere, and when Taraji opened his mouth, his words were hard, clipped. "So, your father was a Prince, _and_ a murderer."

"We don't condone –" Jibade started.

"You're right! You shouldn't! How could… M-my father, he never knew th–"

"I won't speak for Grandfather Amri, Uncle, but I think deep down, you know what he would have done."

Taraji was shaking his head, his mane going in all directions. He rose from his seated position, his legs hurting, cramping. His tail swished behind him in a way that would have caused pain for anyone standing close.

"The pride doesn't know," Mpenzi ventured. "He never told them, and neither did myself or Jibade."

"What about the guardians, Bukua and his –"

"Yes, they know, as does the shaman, Ibada. But that's all."

Before their uncle could speak further Jibade added, "While none of us condone what he did, Dhoruba really had no choice. His father would have probably killed him, or worse, he would have succeeded in making sure that Dhoruba was _exactly_ like him."

"Yet your father killed everyone in his old pride!" Taraji snarled.

"Yes, he did, because of bloodlust!" Mpenzi said with a snarl of her own. She took a breath and told herself to calm down. "Knowing that no one, including his own mother, were too afraid to help him, and the taste of his father's blood… It was enough."

"You said he killed the cubs too." Taraji swallowed, his heart heavy in his chest, pounding against his ribs. "How can you condone that? They were innocent!"

Jibade sighed, understanding his uncle's frustration and every other emotion. "We don't condone it, but after he killed his father he lost control. Several days later, the bloodlust ended and Father came back to himself. When he did, he fled and blocked everything."

"Lately he's been having nightmares," Mpenzi said. "In time, and through the nightmares, he remembered what he did."

The royal siblings glanced at each other, both silently telling the other that they would not mention Akanni, that the light gold tanned lion was the last surviving member of their father's old pride. Just telling Taraji about their father was painful enough. They couldn't add more and they weren't sure Taraji could take any more. But there was one other thing…

Taraji drank from the waterhole again, his tongue lapping in just barely controlled fury. Drops fell from his chin and whiskers. He licked his maw. "If your father… How does he know where his old pride is after all this time?"

At that, having expected it, very slowly Jibade told him about Rasuli in the same way he'd told the pride. Whether Taraji believed it or not was a guess, not that it mattered. "Father wanted answers, and I don't blame him. He knew that in order to put his past to rest forever he had to go back, and trusts in Rasuli to lead him there safely."

Taraji just gave a short nod. "And your mother went too? How could she…" He shook his head, frustration building again. "How can she still love him?"

Mpenzi blinked. Emotion for her uncle's struggles, her parents, and brother almost made her break down. But she couldn't. She was stronger than that. _Not everyone has the lifestyle Jibade and I have had,_ she reminded herself. Inwardly, she hoped for her father's success in putting his past behind him and hoped that her mother's presence was helping. "Uncle Taraji weren't you and Mother taught to love even when it seems you can't? She's had her struggles after learning about Father's past. We all have. No doubt it's been a little harder on her than the rest of us. But she loves him, and he loves her. They need each other."

"And they've been through too much together. Father's terrible actions happened long ago anyway. What good would it do to judge him now? He was in a bad situation, one that would, if not cost him his life, then his spirit. It also would have taken away his one chance to get away and start over. He could have just left his old home and not think a thing about it, but what then?" For a moment, Jibade's eyes flashed in anger. He wanted his uncle to understand. "His father would have impregnated another lioness, had a son with her and raised him to be the same way. The cycle would have continued without Dhoruba. I'm sure Father knew that and didn't want to take even the chance. His father had to die. No one else did, that much is true, but when a predator tastes the blood of one of his own for the first time…"

Taraji groaned. He couldn't argue even if he tried. His nephew's words were painful and true. Didn't every predator want more blood after that first kill? Didn't he, or Kesha, Bukua, the guard's brothers, or Ajia? _Every_ predator felt that way. It was in their nature, but it was up to them to control the feeling. Taraji considered what his nephew and niece just told him. But he couldn't fully understand it. He and Kesha never had that kind of cubhood. Their father was loving, gentle, always there, and ruled his lands and pride with respect and honor. His father was everything that Dhoruba's wasn't. Wouldn't he have – He shrugged and growled softly. No. He wouldn't. Wouldn't he? He could not answer the inner question, but his mind knew the answer.

He swallowed and lay down in the grass, his forelegs and back legs stretched out. Mpenzi and Jibade did the same. He wondered about Kesha, if she was alright. And he wondered about Dhoruba, knowing that when he saw the dark brown lion again it would be hard to look at him the same way. Everyone – those Dhoruba told – seemed to be coping, even the young siblings in front of him. Would they be stronger in their behaviors and beliefs knowing their father's past?

From the looks of it Jibade seemed to be carrying the weight of Regency well. But he had help, his sister, and no doubt one of Bukua's daughters, possibly Nasila, to lean on. He looked at them with a slightly narrowed but soft smile. "Thank you for telling me. Your parents told you to, didn't they?"

"Mom said that if you came while she and Dad were gone you were to be told anyway. She didn't want to keep this from you."

Taraji laughed a little. "That sounds like your mother." _If his grown cubs, his guardians, and my own sister are keeping him around can I really say that they're wrong? Rahimu, if you are with them, help Dhoruba find peace._

And he meant it.


End file.
